The Squirrel and the Wolf
by StillAlone
Summary: After Daryl loses Beth and joins up with the group of bandits led by Joe, it quickly becomes apparent that they aren't his friends. When they turn on him in the forest, he knows Beth was wrong; he won't be the last man standing. But someone long forgotten intervenes, and together they will set out on a mission to rescue the lost and correct the wrongs of the past. Eventual Daryl/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! Thanks for checking out this story. I'm not new to fanfic, but I am new to Walking dead fics. I started toying with this idea a couple weeks ago, and my muse has gone crazy so I decided to go ahead and put it up on here and see if I got any interest. The first two chapters take place in the past and the rest picks up at the end of Alone. I suppose this story will be somewhat AU since I don't see things going this way on the show, but I may follow the story to some extent, and it will most likely at least intersect in some ways. This story is rated M for a reason, and I only recommend it to mature readers. I will be dealing with consent and non-consent, as well as gore, and foul language. **

**I also want to say that I write for you guys as much as for myself and really like to hear from my readers. I always personally respond to reviews and they definitely make me work harder to get chapters out. So, on with the show! Thanks for reading!**

**Chapter One – Shame**__

We never thought we'd get so troubled, We could never think that much, It should never get this bad,

So let the wind blow ya, across a big floor, But there's no one around who can tell us what we're here  
For, Funny in a certain light, how we all look the same, And there's no one in life you can remember ever stood, For you, so 

_Shame, shouldn't try you, couldn't step by you, And open up more, Shame, shame, shame, Shame, shouldn't try you, couldn't step by you, And open up more, Shame, shame, shame _

- _Matchbox 20_

**Eight Years Before the Walkers**

"Squirrel bring us more o' that shine!" Butch bellowed over his shoulder at the screen door.

Merle laughed and spit a stream of brown into the copper bucket at his feet. "That what you call your new bitch?"

"Shit man, that's what everybody calls 'er." Butch said after taking the last drink out of the clear Mason jar and tossing it next to Daryl on the couch. Then he swiveled his head around and scanned the yard full of junk through the dirty screen. "Where the hell you at girl!?" He yelled into the seemingly empty yard.

"Quit your yellin' Butch. Daryl'll go find 'er." Merle said, and spit a mushy bunch of chaw out of his mouth and into the little bucket with a plop.

Daryl glared at his brother and took a swig of his beer, making no move to do as his brother wished. "You go find 'er if you want the shine; I'm happy with my beer." To illustrate his point he finished off the beer he'd been working on and pulled another full can out of the 18-pack beside him.

Merle stood up and strode across the room, plucking the warm beer out of his brother's hand with a grin. "This beer's mine little brother, now go find that girl and our shine."

Daryl glared at his brother and cussed at him under his breath, which only earned him a cuff to the ear. After a moment he rose to his feet, pushed passed Merle, and out the screen door, letting it slam loudly behind him. He scanned the overrun yard and pulled a cigarette out of the pack he had in his front pocket, lighting it as he sauntered down the steps. He meandered around the back of the house, weaving around the myriad of junk cars and dead appliances in his way.

He spotted Butch's little distillery shed as he rounded the house, but didn't see any signs of life near it, so he scanned the woods behind it. After a moment he spotted a girl sitting on a branch of a large oak tree to his left. He assumed she must be "Squirrel" so he took a long drag on his cigarette and walked over to the tree.

When he reached it he looked up at the girl, seeing that she was staring down at him apprehensively. "Hey girl. What the hell you doin' up there?" There was a moment of silence, and then she swiftly swung around and scrabbled down the rough bark in a way that he wouldn't have thought possible if hadn't seen it with his own eyes. When she reached the bottom she turned to face him, her back pressed hard against the tree.

"What'cu want?" She asked softly. Daryl took her appearance in quickly, noting that she did look an awful lot like a squirrel. Her face was framed by boyishly short auburn hair that accentuated her round cheeks, and her body was small and lean. He also noted the fact that she looked to be no more than 14 or 15 – a bit too young for Butch's 35 years in his opinion, but it was none of his business – and she had a fading bruise around her left eye.

He took a step toward her and she shrunk even further back against the tree. It was immediately obvious that she was scared of him, but he didn't give a shit, he wanted to get back in to his beer before the other fuckers drank it all without him. "Butch was yellin' for you to bring us some shine. You should spend more time listenin' to your man, and less time up in trees."

She nodded and started to edge around him toward the shed. "Sorry" She mumbled as she moved past him. He watched her scurry to the shed while he finished his smoke, and then he moseyed on back to the house and his beer.

* * *

When Daryl got back inside he found Squirrel handing out jars of shine to Merle and Butch out of a wooden crate, her hands shaking ever so faintly. He walked over to his spot on the couch and grabbed a fresh beer as he sat down, popping the tab as he settled back into the overly soft seat. He kept his eyes trained on a spot of mold on the far side of the room, trying to ignore everyone around him.

"Hey baby, why don't you come and sit on your uncle Merle's lap?" Daryl's head shot up at his brother's words, suddenly preparing for a fight in case Butch didn't like what his brother had said. He quickly noted that the only person that seemed concerned by the request was the girl, her eyes wide and confused.

He wasn't sure why he gave a shit about her nerves, but it bugged him that the kid was being treated bad. "Shut up Merle." He growled.

Merle just laughed at him and patted his knee, grabbing the girl's wrist and pulling her toward him as she struggled to pull away. Butch watched the scene with a wide grin, drinking his shine without a care for his girlfriend's distress.

Daryl stood up on suddenly wobbly legs, "Let 'er go Merle." He quietly hissed, trying to defuse the situation, before it went south.

Merle glanced up at him lazily, "Sit down little brother. You're actin' like a bitch. Butch don't mind sharing a bit. Do ya Butch?" He shot the inebriated man a look that indicated he didn't really care if Butch did mind.

"Naw man, have at it." Butch chuckled.

Daryl sat back down with a grunt, as Merle succeeded in pulling Squirrel into his lap. Daryl knew that things were bound to turn bad at some point, so he decided to drink as much as he could before that moment came. Merle had a talent for causing trouble, and though Butch didn't seem to care what happened to his plaything right then, that didn't mean he wouldn't change his mind later.

Daryl took a long swig of his beer and glanced at his brother. Merle had one hand high on the girl's thigh and his other hand was rubbing her shoulder. "You're way to tense baby girl." Merle's hand moved from her thigh and reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small pill bottle and shaking it slightly in her face. "But don' you worry, I got just the thing for that."

Daryl glanced nervously at their host, having the girl sit in his lap was one thing, but offering her drugs was a whole different can of worms. He was shocked to see the leer on Butch's face; not only did he not mind what was happening, he was getting off on it. He had always thought Butch was kind of a sick fuck, but he figured he would at least be possessive over his latest hook-up. It was looking like he had figured wrong, and Daryl could tell that the idea of gang banging this kid was pretty exciting to the other two men in the room. He on the other hand, didn't want any part of it. He wasn't into raping little girls, or sharing for that matter. So he looked away, and focused on the moldy wall once more while he slammed his beer.

Daryl was pulled back into the situation by his brother's slightly laughing voice, "Little brother this girl needs a beer to wash down them Perks." He looked down at the four white pills in the girl's open palm and felt his mouth wanting to gape open. Was Merle trying to get her high, or kill her? He mentally shook his head; none of his business. He pulled another beer out of the cardboard case and tossed it into his brother's waiting hand.

He heard the can pop open, "There you go sugar tits. You take those nice little pills and then you an' me can get to know each other better."

Suddenly the air of the trailer felt suffocating and Daryl jumped to his feet, his head spinning a little bit. He needed some air, before he popped like a balloon. "I'm goin' out for a smoke." He growled and strode out of the confinement of the hot single-wide.

* * *

Paul and Jimmy had showed up just before dark, bearing gifts of a case of beer and little baggy of crystal. Now everyone in the room was rip-roaring drunk and high as kites. Daryl wasn't a very big fan of meth, unlike his brother, but by the time the other guys had showed up he had needed something to take his mind off of what was going on around him.

Unfortunately the drugs hadn't really accomplished what he had been hoping for. Instead they had just given him even more of a hair trigger temper, and made him antsy as hell. His foot was tapping on the floor and the fingers of his left hand were drumming on his knee while he sipped what had to be his 12th beer of the afternoon, not to mention the half empty jar of moonshine between his legs. He was lit, and he knew it, but he was still pretty damn pissed about what he was watching.

By that point the guys had managed to get the girl stripped down to nothing but her bra and panties, and Daryl was absolutely sure she was no more than a kid at this point. Though her bra covered her small breasts, he was easily able to see that they were very much still developing, and through her lacy underwear he couldn't see much of a bush. He had briefly wondered how the kid had wound up at Butch's mercy, but it wasn't something he really wanted to ponder, so he had pushed the thought out of his head as quickly as possible by drinking more shine.

He was staring out the window across the room at the leaves that were scraping against the glass, wondering if he could just get the hell out of there and walk home without Merle noticing. He wasn't in the mood for his brother to tell him about how much of a pussy he was, but he was really done with this little party.

His thoughts were broken by the stereo getting turned up and Jimmy yelling above the now loud music. "Hey girl, why don' you give us all a little dance?"

Daryl's head snapped to attention at that, and looked at the girl in question. Squirrel was standing in the middle of the room, a blank look in her glassy eyes. She'd had two more Percocets, and the vast majority of a bottle of shine, but no meth at that point. Daryl had to admit he was pretty damn impressed that the girl was still conscious, much less standing. However, he wasn't any happier about the situation simply because he was impressed.

When Squirrel didn't promptly start dancing Butch reached out and swatted her ass, "Dance girl! We all want ta see ya shake that little ass." At the smack she jerked a little, coming out of her stupor, and started swaying slightly to the music, her hands going up to her hair and mussing up the two-inch long strands.

Merle laughed, taking another swig from the bottle in his hand. "That's it sugar tits, you know just what uncle Merle likes."

Daryl glared around the room. The rest of the guys were grinning and they're eyes were full of lust. _What the fuck is wrong with 'em? How is a drugged up little girl a turn on? _He shook his head trying to clear the drunken fog that was screwing with his mind. He needed to get the hell out of there, this party had just gone somewhere he didn't want to be. He was gettin' the hell off this train even if it wasn't at the station. He squared his feet on the floor, and scooted forward a little bit to stand. They could call him a pussy and a fag all they wanted, he was leaving.

He hadn't even really started to stand, but suddenly he was shoved back into the couch, moonshine splashing all over his shirt and pants. Squirrel had tripped over her own feet and landed in his lap, her eyes wide and scared again, some of the glassiness gone due to her surprise. Daryl shoved at her, trying to get her off of him and onto the couch beside him. "Ge' off me girl!" He snarled.

The room broke into loud laughter and he glared up at the men around him. "What's a matter little brother? You don' like girls in your lap no more? You turnin' fag on us?" Merle asked him through his snickering.

"Fuck." Daryl growled, "She just dumped a full jug a shine on me." He couldn't very well walk out now, his manhood was already in question. Damn girl had gone and fucked everything up for him.

The laughing died down and Butch stood up. He strode over to Daryl and the girl, roughly pulling her off his lap and shoving her onto her knees between Daryl's legs. "You better lick that up… Show that boy how sorry you are." He pushed her head down into his crotch and Daryl could feel her hot, ragged breath on him. He felt her take a deep breath, and then she started licking right next to the zipper of his jeans.

After a moment he realized that as much as he didn't want to, he was getting a little hard. He was completely disgusted with himself; he wasn't any better than the rest of them if this girl being forced to lick his cock through his jeans was turning him on. He ground his teeth together and pinched his side hard to get his mind back to rights. He needed to do something to fix this, or could never live with himself.

Right then the opportune moment came as Jimmy walked over and grabbed Squirrel by the hair, trying to drag her off him and to his own open zipper. Daryl struck quick as a cobra and smacked Jimmy's hand away. "Naw, she was lickin' me first. You jus' go sit down and wait your turn. I'm takin' her ta the back."

Daryl grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her up with him as he rose to his feet. He felt her struggle against his tugging as he pulled her down the short hallway to the spare bedroom, but didn't pay her any mind. He had to do something; had to make it right, and this was the best he could come up with.

When they got in the bedroom, he slammed the door behind him and started taking off his shirt. When he looked up at the girl he realized that the little walk had sobered her up immensely, and her eyes were wide with fear. Daryl shook his head and grunted. "Ain't what ya think." He pulled off his shirt and took a step toward her as she quickly tried to retreat from him. "Naw, don' act like that. Here." He shoved his shirt at her, forcing it into her hand before he retreated a step.

She stared down at the shirt, and then looked back at him with confusion. "Wha-Wha'chu doin'?" She asked shakily.

Daryl glared down at her, noticing for the first time just how small she was. She couldn't have been more than 5'1" and he would be willing to bet she didn't weigh 100 pounds soaking wet. He shook his head, that was completely beside the point, and he needed to focus if he was going to pull this little stunt off. "I'm getting' ya out a here. Put the damn shirt on." He wanted to sound calm, but his voice only came out as a growl.

She looked at him for another moment, obviously trying to see if he was serious. Then she seemed to decide he was, and quickly pulled the sleeveless shirt around her and struggled to close the buttons with shaking fingers. She was moving agonizingly slowly, so he moved in front of her and pushed her hands aside, deftly doing the buttons up. When he was done he roughly grabbed her shoulders and spun her to face the window. He heard her gasp, but ignored it.

"Now ya listen good. Yer gonna go out that window, and run as fast as ya can. Ya get the hell out a here, an' go on home." He had released her shoulders and she turned around to face him while he spoke. Her face was sad now instead of fearful, and he couldn't imagine why. He was saving her ass, what the hell did she have to be sad about?

She took a deep breath, "I ain't got no home no more. Momma's dead and Daddy's in prison for it. I ain't got nowhere to go."

Daryl jerked back slightly at the news, that wasn't what he had been expecting at all and he was a little bit at a loss. It really wasn't his problem though; he was already sticking his neck out for her, and she would just have to figure the rest out for herself. "Yer just gonna have to figure it out. I ain't got no place for ya to go. Now git on out a here." He turned her back around, and pushed her to the window.

When they got to the window she stuck her leg out of it and looked back at him. "Thanks fer helpin' me. Yer a good man."

Her words just made him feel worse about himself. This wasn't what a good man would do; this was what a coward did. He didn't like to think that he was a coward, but he wasn't delusional enough to think that he was a good man. "No I ain't. Now git." He gently pushed her out the window, and watched as she stumbled off into the dark.

Now he could only hope he wouldn't get his ass beat too bad for his little stunt. He knew those guys wouldn't be very happy with him when he came out, and they were every bit as amped up on meth as he was. It didn't bode well for how he would be feeling for the next couple of days.

**Please hit that review button and make my day!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello there folks! Thank you so much for reading my first chapter and sticking with me to check this one out too. I have the first three chapters prewritten, so they will come fairly quickly, after that it might take a little more time to get them out. Reviews do make me write faster though! I want to thank those of you that added me to their favorites, or followed this story. It means a lot!**

**I also really want to thank the guest reviewer that I wasn't able to PM to thank. Your review absolutely made my day yesterday, and had me walking around with a silly grin for over an hour. Thank you so much! I noted that this is a Daryl/OC story on my summery since you brought it to my attention that I didn't make that clear. Thanks for the heads up. I hope you are still with me, and that you enjoy this chapter as well. **

**So, without further ado, I bring you chapter two!**

**Chapter Two - Pompeii**

_I was left to my own devices, Many days fell away with nothing to show_

And the walls kept tumbling down, In the city that we love, Great clouds roll over the hills, Bringing darkness from above

But if you close your eyes, Does it almost feel like, Nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes,  
Does it almost feel like, You've been here before? How am I gonna be an optimist about this? How am I gonna be an optimist about this?

- _Bastille_

**First Week of the Walkers**

"Boy, it sure smells good in here! What are you cooking in there, babe?" Emma asked as she walked down the short hall from the front door of their modest home and into the kitchen.

"It's a secret family recipe… I'm sorry, but I can't tell you all my secrets." Stephen turned to face her holding a bowl of obviously microwaved Italian food in his hands with oven mitts, his face split with a wide, sheepish smile.

"Don't let your mother hear you saying that Bertolli is a secret family recipe. She'd skin you alive for that." Emma replied with a chuckle. She walked over to her fiancé and placed a light kiss on his cheek, being careful not to touch her body to his or the bowl of food. "Do I have time to change my clothes, or do we need to eat right away?'

Steven took a long look at her, obviously sizing up the amount of blood and gore on her scrubs, and seeing the exhausted look on Emma's face. "I think a shower is in order. I'll just reheat this when you get out. No falling asleep in there though… I'm hungry."

Emma smiled up at him again and nodded her head. "Thanks babe. I'll be out in no time."

True to her word, Emma rushed through her shower, and was back in the kitchen in under ten minutes. She laid out the crisp, white place mats they had gotten as an engagement gift the week before and helped Stephen serve the tepid pasta on paper plates. The whole set-up looked fairly foolish, but seeing as how Stephen was studying for the bar exam every waking hour, and Emma worked 60 hours a week, it suited them just fine.

"So how was your day?" Stephen asked as they settled down in front of their plates. "It looked like it might have been a rough one."

Emma took a bite of her dinner before she responded. It had in fact been an insanely crazy day, and she honestly didn't even know where to start. She swallowed her bite and looked up at the love of her life. "It was pretty weird actually. There's some cult or something running around town biting people. Rob thinks somehow these people have Rabies or something, because it seems like a bunch of the ones that had been bitten started acting crazy." She paused and took a drink of the beer Stephen had set out for her, letting the cold liquid wet her suddenly dry mouth. "We went on 18 calls to get people that had been bitten, and we had to retrain six of them. One of them even bit Rob's hand." Emma could feel her stomach do a summersault at the memory, it had been one of the scariest calls she had ever been on.

She could feel Stephen's eyes on her, and she looked up at him. She knew he was one of those crazy preppers at heart, and she didn't really want to hear his thoughts on some crazy apocalypse at this point. His eyes didn't hold the slightly crazed gleam she had come to recognize as one of those moments though, if anything he just looked worried. "You know I think I saw something about that on the news this morning, but it wasn't the local news… I think they were talking about India, or somewhere in the Middle East." He calmly stated. "Nobody bit you though, did they?"

Emma smiled slightly, "No, babe. You know I don't take shit off my crazier patients, and I sure as hell don't tolerate biting. From anyone." She finished with a slight smile. Stephen knew that wasn't true; she was a rather big fan of little nibbles in the bedroom, and she had said it to get a smile from him.

Unfortunately, she didn't get the response she was looking for, and instead he only gave her a slightly steely look, and shook his head. "Well I'm glad nothing happened to you. I think maybe you better take the next couple of days off." She was shaking her head vigorously at that, but he just plowed on ignoring her refusal to take sick leave. "Just until this silly thing blows over. Please Emma? I just couldn't stand it if you got hurt."

"Stephen, I know you don't like that I work on the ambulance crew, but I'm not going to quit that any time soon." They had had that talk way too many times to count at this point, and Emma had been tired of it after the first time. "I can't transfer into the ER until I take those extra courses, and I can't take those classes until you pass the bar. You're just gonna have to wait another couple months." She noticed that her voice was trying to take on that southern twang she had fought to lose over the last eight years, and she fought it down with all her heart. She wasn't going there.

Stephen looked at her imploringly with his handsome green eyes, "But you could just take a couple days."

Any further argument was cut off by Emma's cell phone ringing from her purse on the kitchen floor where she had dropped it when she walked in. "Who the hell could that be?" She asked pointlessly, Steven wouldn't know who it was any more than she did.

She stood and pulled her phone out of the purse, sliding the screen to answer the call before she put it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Emma Parker?" The voice on the other line questioned, and Emma felt her blood turn to ice. She hadn't used that name in five years, and she didn't want to know who would be calling her by it now. She couldn't very well just hang up though, it would be something important if they were calling _that_ Emma.

"Yes. And who is this?" She asked quietly, begging for her heart to stop racing.

"William Jackson… I'm your father's attorney."

"Mmhmm." She responded in a non-committal sort of way. That man was not her father, and she didn't like to hear him referred to in that way. "You mean you are Mr. Parker's attorney?"

There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line that she took for confusion. "Well, yes ma'am, I am Mr. Parker's attorney, and I need to ask you to come down here and testify at his appeal hearing."

Emma didn't even have to think before she responded, "No." She said it flatly, but inside she was screaming.

The man on the other end sighed slightly, as if he had known she was going to say that. "I understand that you aren't overly interested in doing this Ms. Parker, but your father needs you. He's not the man he was ten years ago. He's made a lot of changes to himself and how he looks at the world while he's been away."

Emma couldn't suppress the snort that came out of her; that man changing, priceless. "There is nothing you can say that will bring me down there, Mr. Jackson. I'm sorry you wasted your time."

She was preparing to disconnect the call when the lawyer cut her off, "I have a subpoena saying that you have to be here one week from today, at three o'clock."

Emma felt her mind go blank. She didn't have any choice in the matter, she was going back to Georgia whether she wanted to or not. What the hell was she going to tell Stephen? He didn't know about that part of her life, and she didn't want him to. She only knew she was going home, and she would have to lie to the man she loved in order to do it. It was just dandy. "I'll be there." She managed to mutter, before she disconnected the call and faced her fiancé.

"I have to go to Georgia… I should leave in the morning."

* * *

Emma sat on the hard, wooden bench outside the courtroom door, waiting for her name to be called so she could go home. She just wanted to get this over with so she could get back to her real life. Even though she was in Atlanta, not _home_, she still felt as if the entire state of Georgia sapped her energy away, stole all the power she had fought to gain over the years, leaving her a scared, weak teenager again.

She didn't want to be there; had hated lying to Stephen, telling him that an old friend of hers was in trouble and she needed to stand as a character witness at his trial. She knew Stephen didn't believe her for a second, but he hadn't pressed her for the truth. He wasn't like that; he never made her share something she didn't want to. He had once told her that she didn't need to tell him anything she wasn't ready to, and that he would never force her to. That was a big part of why she loved him; he didn't care who she had been, only who she was right then. God she missed him.

She had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't even notice the way people were racing around the courthouse, or the armed man that approached her. "Ma'am, I need you to go to the busses out front, and head to the refugee camp."

Refugee camp? What on earth was this guy talking about? "I'm here for an appeal, and I'm not leaving until I've testified." She said tersely. She glanced at the man talking to her, and noticed that he definitely wasn't one of the courthouse security guards. This guy looked like military to her. Dressed head to toe in city-camo riot gear, with a pistol on his hip, and a riffle slung over his shoulder.

He stared at her for a moment, and then spoke, "All the trials have been postponed indefinitely. All the prisoners are being loaded in the vans to return to their cells as we speak. Now you need to do as your told and get to the busses." He grabbed her arm roughly, and jerked her to her feet pulling her toward the exit.

"Let go of me!" She hissed. "What the hell is going on?"

He rounded on her, placing his hand on the holstered pistol. She would have taken it as a threatening gesture, had she not seen the look of fear in his eyes. She knew that look; she had seen it in the eyes of nearly every person she had ever taken care of in the ambulance. He thought he was going to die. "Ma'am, I really don't have time to explain things to you. We just need to get out of here."

Emma was pretty damn mad at that point; she hated being manhandled, and she wasn't one to tolerate it anymore, but she was also beginning to feel the first stirrings of fear. She pushed past it though and said the first words that came to mind. "I'm a paramedic, maybe I can help. Just tell me what's going on." She was surprised by how reasonable she sounded, and knew the army man was too.

His hand dropped from the gun and he looked at her for a second, time seeming to stand still as he did. "There's a herd of people attacking everyone out there, they're biting anything that moves… eating them." He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath like he didn't want to say the next part. "And lots of those people were dead yesterday."

Emma felt her mind racing. She had seen the news broadcasts in her hotel rooms at night, and she and Stephen had talked about it a little. He had said he was right to send her with his .38, and she had laughed it off, telling him he was being paranoid. She wasn't so sure now. "What do you mean they were dead yesterday?" She asked, her voice slightly choked at that point.

"I mean they got bit, got real sick afterward, and then they died. But they don't stay dead…" He looked her hard in the eye, and she saw his whole body shudder. "A little bit later they… they just wake up, and they're hungry or something because they attack anything that moves."

She could feel her legs getting weak, but she forced herself to stay on her feet. The only thing that was running through her mind were all the people she had taken into the hospital with bites. Were they all dead now? Dead and up trying to eat people? She couldn't really believe it was true, but she also could tell that the young man in front of her wasn't lying. She knew he had seen it with his own eyes, and that was what scared her worse than anything else. This was real.

"You need to get to the camp now, ma'am. Maybe you can help there." He told her, and she felt her head nodding.

"Okay, you're right. Where is it? I'll need to take my car, I have a lot of medical supplies in there." She said calmly. It was only a partial lie, she always carried her jump bag with her and it was in the car, but she had no intention of going to the camp. She needed to get home, she needed to make sure Stephen was safe.

The tall man looked down at her for a moment, but he didn't see the lie in her words. She knew he wouldn't, she had been so tightly wrapped in lies for the last eight years that they came out as cleanly as any truth could. He nodded at her, "That's a good idea. I don't know how many supplies they have there at this point. Anything will help. The camp is at Georgia Stadium. You know how to get there?"

She smiled slightly, and nodded. "Yeah, sure. I'll get there as quick as I can."

The man gave her a small, tight-lipped smile of his own and then patted her shoulder. "See you there. I hope."

Then he turned away from her and strode back the way he had come. She knew what she was doing, and she needed to do it now. She was going home. Home to California.

* * *

Emma sat in the giant snarl of traffic trying to get out of the city just like she had been for the last three hours. She hadn't moved more than 100 feet in the last hour, and she was beginning to feel desperate. The traffic would have been enough to make the veins pop out in her neck, but it was the fact that she had been trying to call Stephen for the last three hours without any luck that was really getting to her. Every time she hit that damn call button she would just get an automated voice informing her that the network was currently busy.

She stared out at the mass of cars ahead of her and groaned loudly. She jerked her eyes down to her phone again and hit the send button for what had to be the millionth time, and punched the phone to her ear. She was expecting that voice again, and jumped when the phone rang in her ear instead. She felt a small grin fill her face; now she would be able to talk to Stephen and make sure he was okay. The phone rang three times, and she felt the smile evaporating. _Pick up, pick up, please answer the phone Stephen. _She was about to give up hope in the middle of the fourth ring, and then it abruptly stopped.

"Emma, where are you? Are you okay?" Stephen's voice was full of worry, and she could hear that he was out of breath.

She grinned, the sound of it carrying into her voice. "I'm fine, baby. I'm on 80, trying to get out of Atlanta. It's a mess out here though." She paused to take a quick breath, then asked what she was so desperate to know. "Are you okay? How are things there?"

She could hear strange noises in the background on the other end of the line before Stephen answered her, and she felt her heart hammering even faster. "I'm ok, but things are crazy here. All of Los Angeles County is in a state of martial law, and they're shooting people in the streets. I'm getting out of here while I still can, and going to my mom's. I talked to her a few hours ago, and she said it was better there."

Emma tried to process everything he had just told her, but she just couldn't do it. They were shooting people in the streets. She had thought it was a mad-house in downtown Atlanta, but it was obviously far worse in Alta Dena. She heard Stephen chuckle humorlessly, "I guess you're glad I dragged you to all those survival seminars now, huh?"

She couldn't hurt Stephen's feelings by telling him that she hadn't learned a damn thing in those seminars; that she had already known everything they had to say from when she was a kid. She had learned it in a practical way from her father when he took her out hunting. Lee Parker was a real son of a bitch, but he had done right by her in that sense at least. So instead of sharing her secrets, even if it seemed pointless to keep them at this point, she smiled and replied with yet another lie, "You bet I am baby. It looks like those skills might come in handy now."

Stephen huffed out an approving sound, "Good. Now you get out of there as fast as you can, and get to Sedona. I'll be there waiting for you. You still have my gun?"

Emma was going to tell him that she did, but didn't get the chance. Suddenly there was a click, and the connection she had fought so hard to get cut out, leaving her feeling more alone than she had since the night she left Georgia.

She had been distracted by her conversation and hadn't really been paying attention to what was going on around her, but she was brought back to it when she heard a multitude of screams coming from behind her. Her eyes jerked up to the rearview mirror, and she felt her heart abruptly stop in her chest. There were hundreds of those people… things moving down the highway behind her. They were viciously ripping the people that had foolishly thought the glass and metal would protect them from their cars and tearing them to shreds. There were quite a few other people running for their lives, but it didn't seem like many of them stood a chance. For every one that seemed to be getting away, ten more were swallowed up in the horde of man-eating creatures.

For an instant she simply looked in that mirror, frozen in place, and then as if broken from the spell placed over her she started moving. She reached into the passenger seat, grabbed her med kit, and the emergency duffle bag Stephen insisted she always keep where she could reach it in the car, slinging them over her shoulder. She then opened the center console and pulled out the .38 he had pressed into her hand as she was walking out the door, and shoved the small box of ammo that had come with it into one of the many pockets of her med kit bag and she shoved the car door open with all her strength.

She climbed out of the car in a fluid movement unlike how she usually moved these days. It had been a long while since things had been life or death for her, and while her mind hadn't really caught up yet, her body remembered how to handle things. And so she did what all good squirrels do; she ran for the woods.

**Please share your thoughts with a review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi there, everybody! Well we have reached the point where I am out of pre-written chapters, so the next update may take a day or two depending on how much time I have. Reviews make me find the time faster.**

**I want to thank those of you who have followed this story, or added it to their favorites, and I can only hope you all continue to enjoy it. Thanks! I also really have to thank my two guest reviewers. **

**First off, Guest, I'm so glad you like my writing style. I have had people tell my that I am too detailed in the past, so I'm glad you enjoy that I make things fairly in depth. I'm also really happy that you thought I handled the beginning of the Apocalypse well. I think it would have been fun to get into it further, but I didn't want to spend too many chapters in the past. Maybe I'll do some one shots that can accompany this story or something. Thanks again for the wonderful review! You really make me smile!**

**Ashley: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you like how I started this story off, and I hope I continue to hold your interest. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**So, on with the show, as they say!**

**Chapter Three – Leave My Body**

_I'm gonna be released from behind these lines, And I don't care whether I live or die, And I'm losing blood, I'm gonna leave my bones, And I don't want your heart it leaves me cold_

I don't want your future, I don't need your past, One bright moment, Is all I ask

I'm gonna leave my body (moving up to higher ground) I'm gonna lose my mind (History keeps pulling me down) Said I'm gonna leave my body (moving up to higher ground) I'm gonna lose my mind  
(History keeps pulling me, pulling me down)

- _Florence + The Machine_

Daryl had been with the group of bikeless bikers for about a week now. Enough time to know that he better not get comfortable around them, and enough time to figure out that the man they were following was Rick. Based on the tracks he had seen it seemed like he had Michonne and Carl with him too. There was a big part of him that wanted to feel hopeful at that discovery, but he knew these guys were out for blood, and he wasn't sure who would come out on top in a conflict like that.

He had thought about lighting out on his own to try to catch his group, but it seemed like Joe had read his mind and since he had had the thought he hadn't been left alone for more than a minute. It was starting to wear him thin, and he didn't like that feeling one bit. Joe had been walking beside him for the last hour or so, both of them silent, and Daryl brooding. Finally be broke the not quite amicable silence, "So what ya gonna do to that guy when you catch up to him."

Joe laughed a little and spit on the railroad tracks at his feet. "Well, I think you already know that. I'm gonna do to him what he done to our man. Kill him and leave him to turn on his own people." He paused and raised his hand to his eye. "An eye for an eye, you know." Daryl just nodded and chewed at the stick in his mouth a little more furiously. "You don't have a problem with that now do ya, son?" Joe asked curiously.

Daryl wanted to give the man a piece of his mind, but just shrugged instead. He wasn't about to tell this prick that he would shoot him before he let something like that happen to Rick, that wouldn't help nobody. Just then the big bald guy – was his name Billy or Bobby, Daryl couldn't remember and didn't really care – came running back up the tracks towards them.

"We spotted 'em, they're just over the hill. Fightin' a couple freaks it looks like."

The bald guy looked serious, but Joe's face split into a grin. "Hot damn. We finally caught 'em. 'Bout time." His voice was laced with some kind of sick joy that made Daryl feel like his skin was crawlin', but if any of the other guys noticed they didn't show it. "It's show time boys! Let's teach 'em a lesson!"

With that the group headed down the tracks at a swift jog, and Daryl stayed with them. He knew he needed to come up with some sort of plan, and fast. Nothing was coming to mind though, and before he knew it they were over the small rise and barreling strait at his group. He instantly noted that it was in fact Rick, Carl and Michonne, and they had dispatched the walkers the bald guy had said they were fighting.

They were about 50 feet away when Michonne heard them coming, and spun around to face whatever threat was coming toward her, her Katina drawn at the ready. He saw a flicker of recognition on her face when she saw him, but then his attention shifted to the men in front of him raising their guns. It was time to act, and there weren't no time left to come up with a plan. So he did what any sane man would do, or at least what any sane man with the last name Dixon would do, he raised his crossbow and fired a bolt into the head of the man that had his gun trained on Carl, and shouted at the top of his lungs. "Run! Get out a' here, Rick!"

Then there was an explosion of gunfire, and he knew it was coming from both sides of the confrontation. He flew forward and pulled his bolt out of the now dead man's head and fought to reload his bow, but before he could even start to load the arrow he felt a boot connect with his head and he flew to the side. He was able to see his friends running to the trees, bullets raining down on them and Rick and Carl returning fire as much as they could. He saw Michonne drop to her knees, a stain of crimson already blossoming on her right side, but she managed to get her feet back under her, and then Rick had his arm around her and they disappeared into the underbrush.

He knew his friends didn't have much of a chance of escaping Joe and his men, but Daryl felt good that he had at least given them a little bit of one. Not like with Beth, he hadn't even kept looking for her, he'd fucked that one up real good, and there weren't nothing he could do about it.

He could feel blood running down the side of his face from where he'd been kicked, but he ignored it and struggled onto his hands and knees. He knew he needed to make a run for it too if he was ever going to make it away from Joe's wrath, but he didn't even get one foot under him when another boot swung out and kicked him hard in the gut. He collapsed back onto the ground, choking on bile and the instant lack of air in his lungs. He'd been kicked harder before, and he knew it, but every time it happened it always felt like it was the worst. He pushed past it and forced himself to rise up onto his feet, no one trying to stop him.

Joe was standing in front of him, a strange combination of rage and amusement painted on his face. "You sure are one dumb son of a bitch." He shook his head sadly, and looked down at the ground for a second before returning his eyes to Daryl's, all traces of amusement gone from his face. "Now why would you go and do somethin' like shootin' Bobby in the back a' the head?"

Daryl glared at Joe, and glanced at the remaining three men all with their guns trained on him. "They're ma friends." He snarled in reply.

Joe let his face fill with mock hurt, and clutched his chest as if he were having a heart attack. "I thought we were your friends. You hurt me Daryl."

Daryl bared his teeth in a combination of a snarl and a sneer, then spit at the man's feet. "Naw, yer just some pieces a' shit I tagged along with 'til I could find someone better."

He saw Joe's face go red, and then felt a fist connect with the side of his face and he was airborne. He hit the ground an instant later and tumbled down the embankment into the forest at the bottom. He came to a stop with a crash as his right hip slammed against a stout tree. He was pretty sure he felt something crack in his hip on impact, but he still tried to rise to his feet. As soon as he put his right knee under him he fell back to the ground, the pain shooting through him too much to bear in that moment.

He could hear the guys scrambling down the hill after him and tried again to rise, but had the same end result. By that point Joe and his men had reached him, and Daryl knew the game had come to an end; he was almost relieved by it. Someone kicked him in the gut, and then it felt like more feet than should have been attached to four men started raining down on him. One hit him in the ribs, and this time he knew he felt bones breaking. He had his arms wrapped protectively around his head, but that wasn't stopping the guys from trying to kick it in, and his arms were taking one hell of a beating. One of the boots slipped past his arms and nailed him in the forehead, making the already fading world almost go black.

The only sounds Daryl could hear were the grunts and little cries that the men were making while they were intent on kicking him to death. It took him a moment to realize that they weren't the ones crying out; he was. He tried his damnedest to stifle the sounds, not wanting to reward those guys with his pain, but every time a foot would hit his screaming flesh an agonized sound would escape past his tightly pressed lips.

Time seemed to stop and all that existed were the blows raining down on his battered body and the racing thoughts in his mind. In a way he was thankful this was happening to him, because he knew it was giving his friends a better chance to escape. If he could stay alive long enough and keep these sons a' bitches beating him, then Rick and Carl and Michonne just might get far enough away to make it. Now they knew these bastards were after 'em, so they could be more careful, and they could get away. Yeah, that was what he was doing right now, he was saving his friends. If only he could have saved Beth too. Could have maybe told Rick that she was somewhere out there, so someone would be lookin' for 'er. If he had been able to he would have kicked himself right about then for letting that girl go. Of course he hadn't exactly _let_ her go, but that wasn't how he felt about it. He should have kept lookin', he shouldn't a' stuck with these guys, especially after what they done to Len, but hindsight was 20/20 he figured.

He could feel consciousness slipping away from him, and he fought hard to keep it. He swung his battered arm out and grabbed one of the boots on its upward swing. He knew he threw the fucker off balance, but it wasn't enough because he didn't hit the ground. He swatted at a couple of legs helplessly, but it didn't slow no one down any, so he pulled his arm back around his head.

Suddenly the near silence was broken, a sinister and oddly feminine voice breaking through, "Enough!" All of the kicking feet halted, and Daryl wondered why Joe sounded so girly, and why he had stopped the beating. He weren't dead yet, and he had seen in Joe's eyes that he meant to kill him. He felt and heard a soft thud next to his head, and pried one of his eyes open to see what had happened. All he could see was feet, but he could swear the boots directly in front of his face didn't belong to none of the guys he was with.

"Joe, Joe, Joe… didn't I make it clear that I didn't want you on my turf the last time you came through here?" that strange voice spoke. Daryl tried to turn his head to see who it was, but wasn't able to move far enough to see past the person's knees and gave up, closing his eyes for a second.

Joe spoke up at that, "I didn't know we were on your turf, Wolf. We were chasin' a man that done us wrong and I guess we stumbled in."

"This your man?" that voice said, a lot of steel mixed with a little bit of curiosity in the tone.

Daryl opened his eye again, noting that only one of them was working at this point, and forced himself up onto an elbow in spite of the fact that he saw stars the moment he tried to move. He looked up at Joe and saw that the guy was practically shaking in his boots. He shifted his eyes to the person that could make what had seemed like a pretty unflappable man shake in his boots, and was surprised to see that it was a woman. A small woman at that, probably shorter and lighter that Beth even, by his estimation. She had long, dark hair that was hanging down her back in a tight braid, and he could see she was fingering a knife, but he couldn't see her face.

Finally Joe responded after a short sigh, "No. This guy betrayed us. Tried to stop us from getting our guy."

He could hear the cold smile in the woman's voice, even though he couldn't see it. "I see… So you thought you would bring this man on to _my_ turf and beat him to death?"

"We didn't know it was your turf!" Joe hastily exclaimed.

The woman laughed darkly. "Mmhmm. I guess you should have been paying more attention to my markers, and less attention to some grudge. Now get the hell off my turf!" Daryl felt hands grab him under his arms and tried to shake them off, but it was pointless. "What do you think you're doing?" The woman asked quietly.

"We're takin' him with us. We ain't done with him yet." Joe said, his voice a little more calm, but still obviously shaken.

"No." The woman said flatly. "He's staying here. I _claim _him." Daryl could hear the sneer in her voice at the word 'claim', and he couldn't help but feel the same way about it. It was a damn stupid rule and he knew it. Rick hadn't needed nothin' like that to keep things from going _Darwin_ every two hours. Only a weak man needed shit like that.

"We ain't leavin' without him, Wolf." Joe said coldly.

"Really?" she asked with an equally cold tone. "Would you rather I sent you off the same way I did you predecessor?"

Daryl saw Joe bristle at that, and his tone carried that displeasure when he spoke. "Dave wasn't the same caliber of man I am. I won't give you the same opportunity he did."

The woman laughed again, this time as if she really found Joe's words to be funny, and then faster than Daryl could see, she struck. When his brain caught up with her movements he saw that she had her knife at Joe's groin, the denim having disintegrated under the blade. "You're absolutely right, Joe. You aren't the caliber of man that Dave was. He was smarter than you, and that's saying something." She paused and Daryl felt the arms around him tighten slightly, making him moan. "The choice is yours, Joe. Would you like to walk out of here short a half dead man, or your nuts?" She wiggled the blade slightly to illustrate her intent.

Joe's voice had risen several octaves when he spoke, "Let him go Tony, we're leaving." Daryl felt the arms around him disappear, and he abruptly hit the ground. He stopped the scream that wanted to come out of him as he hit the hard ground, but a groan made it out anyway.

"Good decision. Now tell your men to get back up on the tracks, and when I see them leave my turf I'll let you go."

Daryl's eyes were closed and his head was spinning something awful, but he was still able to hear three sets of feet leaving the area, and he would have smiled if it weren't that his face hurt too much to make it happen.

There was a moment of silence and then Daryl heard Joe yelp. "What the hell you do that for woman? They were leavin' like you said!"

Yet again the woman laughed, and while there was humor to it, it also held a cold edge. "It'll heal just fine. I just wanted to help you remember not to set foot on my turf again. Maybe you'll be more aware of my markers next time."

Daryl heard retreating footsteps, and then Joe's voice rang through the trees, "This ain't over bitch!"

"I'm counting on it you piece of shit." The woman whispered.

A moment later Daryl felt cool, dry hands on his face, and tried to jerk away from them. He didn't know who this woman was, and he didn't feel any safer in her company than he had while he was getting his ass kicked into the ground by Joe and his boys. Not to mention the fact that without him as a distraction Joe and his boys would most likely just take off after Rick again, and he wasn't sure they had a good enough head start.

"Easy. I'm not going to hurt you." Daryl's eye jerked open to look into her face, and was surprised to see that there wasn't anything even slightly frightening about her. She had a rather pretty face he thought, at least so far as he could tell with one blurry eye. High cheekbones, full lips, and the biggest brown eyes he'd ever seen. The best part 'bout those big brown eyes was that they were filled with kindness. A' course he knew that didn't mean shit in this world; some a' the nastiest fuckers he'd ever had the displeasure of meeting could make their eyes look kind. It was one hell of a way to get people to trust you, so you could hurt 'em worse later on.

He tried to stare deep into those orbs, so he could see if she was that kinda person, but he was just too damn tired to see much. It didn't matter anyway, he wasn't gonna stick around to see what kind a' person she was. He had to get after Rick, and make sure he didn't get found.

"I gotta go." he said, or at least that was what he meant to say. All that had really come out was a moan and a puddle of blood. And then his eye forced itself closed and the unconsciousness he had fought so hard to keep at bay took him.

* * *

"Shit." Emma said softly as she reached out and lightly placed her fingers along the man's pulse point checking to make sure he was simply passed out, and not dead. When she found a steady rhythm under her fingers she sat back on her heals and released a shaky breath. It had been a tense few minutes, and now that her adrenaline was ebbing she could feel the exhaustion setting in.

She had seen a small group of people out on the tracks at the edge of her territory not very long ago, and when they had been ambushed by a group of those things she had almost left her area to help them. Almost. She didn't make a habit of helping people, and she didn't want to start. She had learned the hard way that people were far more dangerous than those things that tried to eat you. She had remained in the area and watched them as they dispatched the small pack anyway, curious to see how they fared. Then just as the last of those things hit the ground she had seen Joe's group come barreling down the hill towards them. At first she had thought maybe they were going to help the smaller group, but it became apparent almost instantly that that wasn't the case.

Her first tip off had been the bolt fired out of a crossbow at the back of one of Joe's men's heads. That had been followed by implicit instructions for the little group to run, but that probably hadn't been necessary due to the fact that Joe and his buddies started raining bullets down on the three people she had been watching. The little gunfight hadn't lasted long before the trio had booked it into her turf, and she had been about to pursue them to make sure they got the hell off her land, but before she got a chance she saw Joe kick the man that had shot his other man.

For some unknown reason that action pinned her to her spot in the large oak, and she watched as the man struggled to his feet. They were a fair distance away from her, and she couldn't hear what they were saying, but she was able to tell that Joe was livid. After a short discussion Joe had punched the man hard in the face and he had tumbled down the hill, only to crash into the very tree she was hiding in. When she looked down at the man that was sprawled on the ground beneath her, her body froze and her mind went into overdrive, sending her back ten years.

_Emma had never been this high in her life, but that didn't stop the fear building in her body as the man dragged her down the hallway. She knew she shouldn't really be afraid, it seemed silly since she had already made trips like this at least a hundred times in her 16 years of life. If anything she should have been feeling relieved; at least this guy didn't seem the type to smack her around a bit before spreading her legs. Not like his brother, that guy scared the crap out of her, and she was dreading the point when it would be his turn. _

_When the door slammed behind her she looked up and saw nothing but rage in the man's eyes, and began to wonder if maybe she was wrong. Maybe he was about to knock the snot out of her after all, so she started to back away from him unconsciously. She watched as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, and she found her feet retreating from him even faster. She honestly didn't know what was wrong with her. She should just lay down on the bed like a good little girl, but for some reason she just couldn't. _

_"Ain't what ya think." The man said softly as he encroached on her space with his shirt held out in front of him. "Naw, don' act like that. Here." He forced the shirt into her hands and retreated back a step. She felt her heart hammering and her mind was spinning like a top. What the hell was goin' on? Did he want her to wash his clothes or somethin'? She didn't know what to do so she just looked up at him dumbly, her brown eyes wide and fearful. _

Emma had been suddenly jerked back to reality by the inhuman cries of pain coming from beneath her and when she looked down she felt her breakfast trying to rise up in her throat. Joe's men were viciously kicking the man that had saved her from the horrors of her life all those years before, and if she didn't stop them he would most likely be dead in a few minutes.

It had taken her a second to get her racing heart under control, and pull her knife, but then she had sternly called out to them to stop as she dropped from her branch in the tree. The confrontation that had followed had been short, but intense. She knew that this far from her camp she didn't really stand a chance against the group, but she had hoped they wouldn't see the fear behind her eyes. She knew she was lucky that they had left, and that she had probably pushed things too far by cutting Joe the way she had, but at the time it had made sense. And now, as a reward for her efforts, she was stuck with a severely beaten, and very unconscious man.

It was just over a quarter mile to her nearest camp, and the thought of dragging him that far was not one she liked very much. Not to mention the fact that she had no idea how to get him up into the tree house once she got him there. But she knew she didn't really have any other options, since those idiots had shot off all their guns and attracted ever biter in the area.

She rocked forward on the balls of her feet, and tried to assess the damage that had been done so she could avoid hurting him further. She started at his head, running her deft fingers through his hair and noting at least two small tears in his skin. Then she looked at his face more closely and saw that one of his eyes was completely swollen shut and the other wasn't far behind. His left cheek was also swollen and bruised, and his lip was split. Overall his face and head hadn't faired very well, but she didn't see anything life threatening at least.

As she worked her way down his body she heard him moan when she touched his ribs, but he didn't wake and she moved on. She had already been sure he would have broken ribs and his discomfort only proved the point. When she reached his hip he actually cried out and his eye flashed open for an instant before he passed out again. Of all his injuries that was the most troubling to her. It was obviously dislocated, and she would have to get him back to camp in order to get the traction needed to put it back in place. It was also possible that it was broken as well, and that could be a death sentence now that there wasn't a hospital to go get a hip replacement done. She could only hope it was simply dislocated and bruised, not broken.

The rest of his body hadn't sustained massive damage, his arms having been badly bruised but not broken, and both of his legs from the hips down seeming to be OK. So she moved up to his head and wrapped her arms around his chest and lifted him as high as she could. She was surprised by just how heavy he was. She remembered that he had been a fairly large man all those years ago, but she would have sworn that a tank couldn't weigh as much as he did now. All of the muscle from years of fighting for survival having turned to dead weight due to unconsciousness.

She took a deep breath and started dragging him backwards through the woods. It would be a long quarter mile, but she could do it. She had to do it. She had to give him a chance, just like he had given her one so long ago.

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everybody. I really wanted to get this chapter out yesterday, but I've been fighting a cold, and my brain was just too fuzzy to make coherent sentences appear on the screen. Sorry! Thanks to those of you that are reading and enjoying this story! All the little emails I get saying that someone has followed or favorited this make me grin. Keep it up!**

**Guest: Thank you SO much for saying that this is one of the best fanfics you've read! That means so much to me, and I can only hope to keep you feeling that way! I'm trying hard to make that happen. I'm also glad that the fight/beating scene was good in your opinion. I sometimes have trouble with action scenes like that, so I'm happy you thought it was good. Now you get the answers to some of your questions. I hope they live up to expectations. Thanks again for you wonderful words and support! You rock!**

**Chapter Four – Nothing More**

_To be bold, to be brave. It is the thinking that the heart can still be saved, And the darkness can come quick, The Dangers in the Anger and the hanging on to it._

_We are Love, We are One, We are how we treat each other when the day is done. We are Peace, We are War, We are how we treat each other and Nothing More_

_Tell me what it is that you see, A world that's filled with endless possibilities? Heroes don't look they used to, they look like you do._

- _The Alternate Routes_

Daryl awoke in a fit of panic and rage. He had known he shouldn't 'a trusted that woman, kind eyes be damned. There weren't no good people left in this world, and now he had proof. The thought that Beth probably had that proof too made bile rise up his throat. She didn't deserve whatever was happening to her, and he hadn't been able to stop it. Those thoughts only made his rage boil up even higher, and that was saying something considering the predicament he had awakened to.

He didn't know where he was, just that he couldn't move, and he was blindfolded. Not to mention the fact that he could hear a good sized herd of walkers surrounding him. That bitch must have tied him up, blindfolded him, and left him for walker bait. He would have been better off getting beat to death. This was straight up sadistic.

He tried to focus on a way out of the situation, straining to find the ropes binding him. After a moment a new panic enveloped him; there weren't no ropes. He just couldn't move. Then he realized he couldn't feel a blindfold either, he was blind. Panic and rage tore into him in massive waves. What the hell was goin' on? Was he dead? He sure as hell hoped this wasn't what death was, because he didn't think he could stand it.

He struggled to move, putting all that fear and anger into the fight, and managed to sit about six inches off the bed before he collapsed back with a soft moan. He immediately heard movement coming towards him; bare feet on a wooden floor. Then he felt the padding beneath him sink slightly, and a cool hand pressed lightly on his forehead.

"Take it easy. Yer safe." A warm voice said softly.

The woman hadn't left him after all. What the hell was she thinkin'? It weren't safe there with a pack of walkers outside the door. He tried to sit up again, and this time managed to get an elbow beneath him, and stay about halfway up. It hurt like nothing he had felt before, but he weren't no weak little pussy, so he toughed it out. "Wha'd ya do ta me? I can't see nothin'."

The woman sighed and patted his arm softly. It sent spasms of pain through his body, but he ignored it. No weakness. "Your eyes are swollen shut. I've been putting poultices on them, and it's going down. I think you'll be able to peek out of your right eye after the next one." He felt the weight disappear from the pad beneath him and the momentary warmth went with it, only to return a few seconds later.

"You need to lay back so I can put these on your eyes. It will only need to be on for about five minutes, then we'll see where yer at." He felt her ever so gently push his shoulder back, as she said it, but he fought to remain up.

"I ain't layin' back 'til ya tell me what's goin' on!" He wanted to roar it at her, but was mortified to hear that he sounded more like a breathless little girl than a pissed off man.

Her hand retreated from his chest, and he could almost hear her teeth gritting together. "Fine." She ground out after a moment. "What do you remember?"

Daryl shifted his weight slightly, trying to get in a more comfortable position, only to find none existed. He grunted slightly as he gave up and laid back down. She had agreed to explain things to him, and that would have to be good enough, because he was just going to pass out like a little bitch if he stayed up a moment longer. "I 'member ya showin' up out 'a nowhere, and tellin' Joe ta leave, an' tha's 'bout it."

"Okay. I'm going to put the poultice on while I talk so you can see sooner. That okay with you?"

Daryl just grunted and she must have taken it for an affirmative, because he promptly felt something cool and damp going over his eyes and left cheek.

"Well, you remember the pertinent details. After you went unconscious I dragged you back here, and pulled you up into the house. I had to put your hip back in the socket, so I gave you a little laudanum to get your muscles to relax so I could do it. I also wrapped your ribs, and stitched you up in a few places." She paused and seemed to straighten a blanket he hadn't even realized was covering him before she continued. "Since then I've just been doing the poultices and giving you IV fluids."

"I've got a fuckin' IV in me?"

She laughed softly, a sound that reminded him more of little birds high up in the trees than a person. "No. I took it out about 20 minutes ago. You were pretty well hydrated, and started trying ta rip it out in yer sleep. Yer kind of violent in yer sleep, you know?"

Daryl grunted again, and thought over what she had said, and how she had said it. She had the weirdest way of talking. For the most part she didn't sound like she belonged here in the south, but every once in a while she would slip with a heavy southern drawl that could only be found in places like where he had grown up. And to make things even more confusin' her damn voice sounded almost familiar. Not like he had heard it before, but like he had heard one a lot like it before. He didn't like bein' confused one bit and managed to get a little more pissed off by it.

Suddenly he remembered what had caused him to get his ass beat into a piece of poorly butchered meat, and his blood ran cold. "Where're my friends?"

"Joe and those guys?" she asked with confusion.

Daryl managed to shake his head back and forth a couple times before his brain rattlin' in his skull hurt too bad to keep it up. "Naw, not those fuckers. The ones they was shootin' at."

There was a moment of silence and then she replied, "Oh them… I'm not sure. If they're smart they're somewhere out in the forest. If not, they went back to the tracks."

Daryl jerked upwards, managing to get into a fully sitting position, though he didn't get that far without significant pain. Screw this shit. He needed to get past the walkers outside and get to his friends, his family.

* * *

"The hell are you doin'?" Emma gasped in surprise, as she watched her patient jerk upwards. She reached out to push him back down, but his hand snapped out and slapped her away.

"I gotta get to 'em." The man snarled at her as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. She was blown away by how tough he was, and how foolish. He was on death's door, blind, and there were at least 100 biters at the bottom of the tree. What in the hell was he thinking he was going to do?

Emma took a deep breath, and conjured her most commanding voice, the one she had used to stop his beating, among many other things. "Stop."

His movement stilled for an instant, and she felt a bit of hope before he abruptly rose to his feet and stood beside her. "I gotta help 'em. Joe'll kill 'em if I don't."

Emma reached up and ran her fingers through her hair, her braid stopping their downward movement at the base of her skull. Her fingers dug into the skin there, trying to keep herself calm as she looked at the man swaying in front of her. Was he always this crazy, or had the world changed him as much as it had changed her? With a deep breath, she realized he probably was always this crazy. He would have had to of been in order for him to help her the way he had. She sighed again, and addressed him. "How do you plan on helping them? You can hardly move, you're blind, and you don't have any weapons."

His head jerked towards her, and she could see that he was peering at her through his right eye, the swelling having gone down enough to allow it. "I can see, and I'm movin'. The hell more ya want, girl?"

She shook her head, and looked him hard in the eye. "Why don' ya have a look outsi' an' see wha's waitin' for ya'?" She felt her skin pale at the way her mouth had betrayed her. She hadn't talked like that in more than ten years. Even after… _everything _had happened she had managed to sound like she had a brain in her head, but in that one sentence she had sounded like the hillbilly trailer trash she really was, and she was absolutely horrified.

She watched as he slowly moved over to the window opening in her tree house. Once he reached it he peered out, and though his face was too swollen to show much emotion, she knew he was confused. "Down." She said flatly, and watched as his head swiveled to look at the mass of writhing bodies beneath them.

"Shit." he muttered, turning to look at her again.

"We're not going anywhere tonight." Her voice offered no argument, and he limped back towards her.

"I gotta help 'em." He whispered with a defeated voice.

Emma's mind began to race. She felt immeasurable guilt for not helping his friends, but she simply couldn't. She had already fulfilled her obligation to the man that had saved her. She had done that simply by stopping the beating, and had surpassed it by bringing him to her camp and getting him fixed up. She couldn't be going out there looking for even more people that could hurt her just because she felt guilty.

"You wouldn't be any help to them in your current condition. All you would do is get yourself killed. I worked pretty damn hard ta keep ya alive, and I wouldn' appreciate it much if you went and killed yourself as a thank you." There went that damn hillbilly hick again, taking her voice and putting words in her mouth.

She watched in surprise as he slowly lowered his battered body onto the grass-stuffed mattress on the bed. She looked at him hard and saw that his eye was filled with self-loathing, the last spark of hope flitting out of it and floating up toward the ceiling.

"They'll be fine… I'll find them for you tomorrow." She jerked back at the words her own mouth had spoken. She had no intention of sneaking from branch to branch in order to find this man's people. Hell, she didn't even know his name, and she had already fulfilled her debt. She didn't owe those other people anything, and at this point she didn't really feel like she owed her historical savior anything either. And yet she had now said she would go find them, and deep down she knew it was the right thing to do.

The man was staring at her intently, his eye still only just barely open, and yet it was still capable of pinning her to her spot. It seemed to be looking right through her, seeing all her secrets and unraveling them. Then he abruptly dropped his gaze, and started chewing on his thumb. After a second he nodded his head a couple times and swung his legs back up on the bed.

He cleared his throat, and glanced up at her looking rather uncomfortable. "Uh, I guess I ought'a thank ya for what ya did." He looked away from her, and started back up on his thumb again. "Name's Daryl." he mumbled around his finger.

* * *

Daryl had to admit he was feeling a little better than he had when he first woke up. Of course it didn't take much to feel better than that; he had seriously considered the possibility that he was dead after all. He was now propped up on a bunch of furs with a blanket over his dirty pants. The woman had offered to take them off and wash them for him, but he wasn't about to get naked in front of a woman that wouldn't even tell 'im her name. He had given her his in the hopes that she would reciprocate the gesture, but no such luck. She had just smiled and walked over to the little camp stove in the corner, returning with a bowl of rabbit and carrot stew.

That had been about an hour ago, and he had since finished off a second helping of stew and a full canteen of water. She had offered him more laudanum so he could sleep, but he refused on account of not really wanting to be passed out cold again anytime soon. Now he was unfortunately facing a fairly pressing matter, and didn't much want to bring it up. After squirming around on the bed for a few minutes he just couldn't hold it any longer and cleared his throat to gain the woman's attention.

She was bent over a pile of dried plants, carefully pulling leaves away from the stems, and tossing the unwanted parts out the window and down to the ground below. She glanced up at the noise he made and he shifted his eyes away from her uncomfortably. "You ah… got a privy up here?" He cleared his throat again and dared to look up at her.

She had a faint smile on her face, and he could swear he had seen it somewhere before. "Just aim out the window… piss on 'em." The small smile spread into a toothy grin, and she chuckled quietly as she indicated out the window with her free hand. Then her head ducked back to her task and she mumbled up at him, "I won't peek."

Daryl felt his face redden at the thought of pissin' right out the window, not four feet from the woman. However, at that point his bladder didn't really give a shit if he was embarrassed, so he flung the blanket off and slowly rose to his feet while clutching his deeply pained ribs. He made his way across the small room on shaky legs. He may have been feeling better, but this was by far the worst beating he had gotten in years. His dad had knocked him 'round on par with this a couple times, but that was a distant memory. The only ass-kickin' he could clearly remember that was even close to this one was the one those fukin' meth-heads had given him after he got that Squirrel girl outta that trailer.

As he pissed out the window, trying to hit as many of those fuckers as he could in the process, he realized that night had been in the back of his mind ever since he was able to crack his eye open. He figured it was because he had the same busted ribs and swollen eyes, but something tugged at the back of his brain telling him it was more than that.

He shook himself off and zipped back up before striding back to the bed on stronger legs. Nothing like the relief of an empty bladder to perk a man up. He sat on the edge of the bed and started up chewin' on his thumb again. Smoking wasn't a big part of surviving with the walkers, but after smoking ten or twelve of the cancer sticks with Joe he was feeling the craving with renewed force. He waited a moment to see if the woman would look up at him of her own accord, but when she completely ignored him he cleared his throat again to get her attention.

"I don' suppose ya got any cigarettes stashed up here, do ya?" He pulled his finger out of his mouth long enough to talk before he went back after it with renewed vigor.

She looked up at him, her brows furrowed and her mouth in a rather grim line. He studied her more intently for the instant he got the chance, taking in all he could about her appearance. She did have some of the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen, just as he had thought in his rather delirious state when he first saw her. She also had high cheekbones that stood above the shadows of hollow cheeks. Her eyes had dark circles beneath them as well, and her skin was pale. He guessed that she had made him a good meal, but she didn't eat very well herself, at least not on a regular basis. She had full, red lips above a small chin. Overall she had a rather heart-shaped face, and was quite pretty in a dirty and hungry kind of way.

Finally, after she studied him just as intensely as he had her, she shook her head a little. "No. I've got a little weed if you want that instead though."

Daryl's eyebrows shot up painfully. Where the hell did this girl get weed? And for that matter where did she get the opium to make the laudanum she had given him? Was she some kind of drug dealer before the shit hit the fan, and she just had her stash with her? He kind of doubted it. She didn't really look like the type for that profession, not that there was a _type_ for dealers.

He realized she was staring at him inquisitively, and he remembered she had offered him weed. Though he had to admit it would take the edge off nicely, he didn't want anything clouding his judgment if things went south with her. He shook his head, "Naw. I'm fine. Thanks anyway."

She looked at him for another second before nodding and dropping her eyes back to her work. A few strands of hair had come loose from her braid and fell over her forehead, and she blew them away with annoyance. When that failed to move the errant strands she ran her long fingers up through her hair and pushed them back.

The movement made the breath suddenly catch in Daryl's chest and his eyes squinted in spite of the fact that they were barely open in the first place. Somehow her fingers running through her auburn hair triggered the memory that had been dancing in the back of his mind for the last hour. This girl was a little taller, and a hell of a lot more grown up, but that was what happened in ten years. Kids grew up, and old folks died. The round chipmunk cheeks and been replaced by concave shadows, but those eyes were the same. There wasn't fear on the outside like it had been ten years ago, but it was still there, lurking in the deepest recesses.

It all made sense now. Why she had saved him, and why she looked and sounded so familiar. His mouth opened, and the word came out before he had the chance to think it over, "Squirrel."

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi there, here's another chapter for you all. I had a little trouble getting it out the way I wanted, and I'm still not totally thrilled with it, but alas it was time to post it anyway. Hopefully you guys like it. Thanks to those of you that recently added me to your alerts! I can't tell you how happy I am every time I get those emails telling me that someone likes my story enough to follow or favorite it. **

**Guest: Thanks for another wonderful, well thought out review. You are so kind! I'm glad that my writing makes you feel like you are bonding with the characters. That's how I feel when I'm writing these chapters, so I'm glad others feel that way as well. I also feel bad for Daryl, he always seems to get the short end of the stick, and walks away a little more beaten and broken down. Hopefully things start to turn around for him soon. Who knows. It's funny that you say you think Emma is honorable, because I don't think she believes that. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Thanks again for the review. Looking forward to your opinions in the future!**

**And here we go!**

**Chapter Five –**

Emma's head snapped up like she was a marionette and her string had just been pulled by an inexperienced puppeteer. She had thought he would recognize her for the first ten or 15 minutes, but after that she had decided she was safe. She didn't want him knowing who she was; didn't want him thinking she owed him more than she was willing to give. Now all those hopes for easily dismissing him once she found his friends and he was able to travel were shattered.

She realized that she had been staring at him like a deer in the headlights, and struggled to get herself under control. She didn't want to end up as road kill, and she would if she didn't get her brain to working right. She cleared her throat to allow herself time to get her mind straight, then she spoke with a shockingly hoarse voice, "Didn't think ya remembered me."

She saw the man – Daryl – smile a little, and felt her heart flutter for some silly reason. "Hard ta forget after the beatin' I got fer sendin' ya out the window."

That was the last thing she had wanted to hear. If he had caught a beating for helping her, then she did in fact owe him more. He had not only saved her, but had risked bodily harm to do it, and had apparently paid a steep price for that risk.

She looked at him for a long moment, then shifted her eyes back down to her work. "I'm sorry for that."

"Nothin' ta be sorry for." She glanced up and saw him shrug. "I knew it was comin'."

She nodded slightly, and went back to her work; it was obvious he wasn't looking for pity or gratitude. For some reason that didn't make her feel any better, perhaps even worse. This was a man with a code, and that meant he held others at the same standard. He would expect her to do the right thing, and she wasn't sure she could anymore. A few years ago it wouldn't have been a problem; she had been known to be reckless and crazy back in her days on the ambulance crew. Even disobeying direct orders and entering areas still hot with gunfire to help a fallen man. This world had changed her though, and she hadn't behaved like that in a long time.

The silence had grown heavy while she was thinking, and she suddenly felt antsy. She quickly got her herbs packed neatly into the appropriate jars, and cleaned up her little mess. She then rose to her feet and tossed the debris out the window, noting that a few of the biters had started moving off in search of easier prey. She turned back to Daryl and found him staring at her intently, his thumb being chewed viciously once again.

She finally broke the silence by asking the question that had been burning in her mind since she volunteered to go after his friends. "So what are your people like? They gonna give me trouble when I find 'em?"

"Naw, they're good people. I'll be with ya anyway."

She promptly started shaking her head, "No. You aren't in any shape to be looking for people. You stay here and rest." She saw his eyes darken significantly, but ignored it. He could be pissed about it all he wanted; she wasn't takin' him out in the woods in his condition. Even if his condition _was _vastly improving every minute she was around him. "Do you know where they're headed? You guys have a camp around here someplace?"

Daryl continued to glare at here, obviously not impressed with her attempt to change the subject from his intended plan to join her. After a minute he shook his head slightly, "Naw, our place got taken out a while back. Think they're headed ta that sanctuary, Terminus."

Emma felt her skin pale, and her heart momentarily halted its steady rhythm. Her voice was little more than a whisper, "Shit."

She spun away from the window and strode to her wall of weapons, pulling one of her holsters off and fastening it around her waist. "I have to go now. You stay here, and stay out of trouble. If I'm not back in two days get out of here. Watch out for my traps around camp, then head west to the river, follow it north until you spot my marker. After that just get the hell away from here, and stay away from Terminus."

By this point she had her gun at her waist, along with three knives. She also had a second gun in the waist band of her pants and a small compound bow and its quiver slung over her shoulder. When she faced Daryl she could see that his face was full of confusion, and that he was about to start arguing with her, but she wasn't going to give him the chance.

"See you soon." she said as she darted out the window and into the night. She couldn't let Daryl's people wind up in that god forsaken place.

* * *

Daryl stood in the middle of the room for a long moment, just trying to figure out what the hell had happened. From everything he had seen of that woman she wasn't all that interested in finding Rick and the others. If anything it had seemed like she was fairly opposed to bringing them there at all. That was why he had said he would go with her. If she didn't want them around then he would just leave with his group and let her do whatever the hell she wanted. He'd saved her ass once, and she had saved his; they were even, and she could just hide out in the woods until the walkers got 'er if that was what she wanted. It wasn't his problem.

Then his brain clicked; Terminus. As soon as he had said that was their destination she had gone crazy. He'd had a feeling the place wasn't all it was cracked up to be, but her reaction said it was a lot worse than that. If she was willing to go out into a horde of walkers to get people she didn't even want around her, then that place had to be bad news. Oh hell. He'd forgotten all about those walkers at the base of the tree. That damn girl was probably already dead.

He shot over to the window, and didn't see any sign of her for several long seconds. He scanned the ground for signs of her being ripped to shreds, and was surprised to see that not only were those lacking, but the walkers didn't even seem to be acting any different than they had been when he had first looked out the window over an hour earlier. Then a sudden and unnatural shift in the shadows caught his eye and his head jerked up to catch the movement.

That damn girl was gracefully leaping from one thin tree branch to the next over 200 feet away from her starting point. She may not look much like her namesake anymore, but she sure as hell still moved like one. "Damn girl." He whistled under his breath. She really was a sight to see, moving through the trees like that. No wonder she hadn't wanted him to come with her, he never could have done that, even if he wasn't beat to shit. Now how the hell was she goin' to get Rick and the gang back there safely? Especially with Michonne shot like she was. If she was even still alive… if any of them were.

He felt his stomach clench at the thought, and barely had time to tilt his head out the window before all the food he'd eaten made a reappearance. They could all be dead; Rick, Carl, Michonne, the whole damn group. He hadn't seen any signs of the rest of the people from the prison, though he hadn't seen any of Rick either, until just the other day. It was possible they were out there somewhere, but like he'd told Beth, they weren't never gonna see 'em again.

Beth… was she gone for good too? Seeing Rick for that short moment had given him a bit of hope, even if it had disappeared when he was getting kicked into the ground. It had made a reappearance when Squirrel – could that be her real name? – had said she would go find Rick, but it was gone now. If Michonne could go down to people like Joe and those bastards, then Beth was most likely dead. She'd had an inner toughness that he had been surprised by, but she wasn't Michonne, or Maggie, or… him, and she had known that. He knew she would put up a fight, but anybody that would take her the way those people – or person – had couldn't have good intentions, and she wouldn't be able to put up that good of a fight.

He had thought he'd emptied his stomach the first time, but he'd been wrong, and a little more of his dinner came up with his dark thoughts of Beth. Once he was sure he was through with that nasty business he decided to take his mind off those kinds of thoughts by taking a better look at the place he was supposed to stay.

He'd noted early on that he was in a small wooden space, cluttered with things. He figured it was a fairly permanent camp based on the amount of goods stacked along the walls and on the shelves. He stepped away from the window and walked the few steps to the kitchen area. There was a short counter that held a single burner camp stove hooked up to a small propane cylinder, and a five gallon water cooler. There were also cooking implements, several sharp knives, and a few old cans of food. The shelves beneath the counter held a few more cans, and several packets of dried food, but it was mainly filled with jars of dried plants, and oddly colored liquids.

He picked one of jars up, and studied it. It was filled with a thick, red fluid, and had words written in loopy cursive on the side in magic marker. He struggled with the unfamiliar handwriting, but after a moment was able to decipher it; "Elderberry Tincture…" He placed it back on the shelf and grabbed another one, this one filled with what looked like dry, brown twigs. He had to focus on the writing for a moment again, but got it faster this time. _Valerian Root_. While he was familiar with both of the plants, he didn't really know what their purposes were, so he put the jar back and turned away from the kitchen section.

The crossed to the weapons wall, and studied the small armory. He had noticed that she took a .45, a .38, and a nice compound bow with her, but she had left several good guns and knives behind. His eyes fell on the crossbow he had noticed almost immediately after waking up the first time, and now that she wasn't there to stop him, he pulled it off the wall. It was a larger and more powerful model than either of the ones he had used over the last couple years, it also looked almost completely unused. He cautiously tested the draw strength on it, slipping his boot through the strap at the bottom and pulling gently up on the string. He didn't pull it all the way back, but enough to know that it was a damn fine bow.

He started to hang it back up, but changed his mind. His bow was obviously gone, and they might need help getting through the horde beneath him when they got back. He might as well be ready. So instead of putting it away he grabbed the bolts that had been resting on the shelf beneath it, drew the string back and loaded a bolt. He then crossed back to the window and took aim at one of the walkers beneath him. He hated to waste a good bolt, but he needed to see how it was sighted in so he could help later if he needed to.

He slowly pulled the trigger, and watched the walker drop with the bolt sticking out from between its eyes. "Damn." He whispered. That was one hell of a bow, and he sure didn't want to give it back when Squirrel came back. He reloaded it and ran his hands over the cool metal surfaces lovingly. "Ah well, I'll find a nice one again…"

Then he turned his attention back to the night outside the window. It was time to wait, and maybe even try to hope a little.

* * *

Rick sat with his back against a large tree, his hands clinging to his now empty revolver as if his life depended on it. Carl laid next to Michonne, sleeping fitfully, with his sheathed knife laying in his open hand. Michonne looked asleep, but Rick knew better. Her breathing was too strained and all the muscles in her neck stood up in stark relief.

She was tough, that was for damn sure. She had managed to keep running for over an hour, before she just couldn't keep it up anymore. He had carried her for another hour, but by that time they were making such poor time it hardly seemed worth it to keep going. He had laid her down and tried to see how bad the wound was, but she wouldn't have any of it and shoved his hands away. She hadn't gotten up since then, and refused the little bit of food he'd offered, though she had drank a little water. He knew she had lost a lot of blood, and had perhaps been hit in a vital area, but without her allowing him to look he couldn't know for sure how bad it was.

The eerily silence was broken by Michonne's hoarse voice, "You need to get Carl out of here before I turn." There was no request in her voice, just a firm resolve.

Rick crawled over to her side, and looked down at her now open eyes. "What are you talking about? You'll be fine. You just need a little rest and then we'll find some supplies to patch you up tomorrow." He knew he was lying as he said the words, but he couldn't bring himself to be brutally honest at that point.

He was surprised to see Michonne smile slightly in response to his blatant lie. "Yeah… You take him away before it happens though. You hear me?"

Rick felt his chest constrict slightly at the thought, but nodded his head. "Okay."

He was reaching out to squeeze her hand when he heard a twig snap just off to his right, and he spun in that direction. He was on his feet the next second, his empty gun pointed in that direction in one hand and his knife clutched in the other. At first he didn't see anything, but a moment later a shape melted out of the darkness in front of him.

It was instantly obvious it wasn't a walker simply based on the way it moved. Its strides were with purpose, but they were calculated, not simply intent on a meal. He felt his heart drop into his feet and swallowed thickly. He had thought those men wouldn't be able to track them in the dark, and that without a fire they wouldn't spot them out there in the forest. He had obviously been wrong.

"Just walk away, or I'll shoot." He bluffed.

The movement halted, and he had to struggle to keep the form in focus in the thick darkness. "Daryl sent me." The figure called out quietly, and he wasn't sure if he was more surprised by the words or the fact that it was a woman that said them.

"You with that group that tried to kill us?" He didn't expect an honest answer if she was, but he couldn't help asking.

"No. They were going to kill your friend for helping you. I stopped them, and then he said I needed to find you." She had started moving toward them at that point, and Rick could feel his heart racing. Though whether it was out of relief or fear he couldn't be sure.

Suddenly he felt a body next to him, and glanced down to see Carl mirroring his stance beside him. He knew it shouldn't give him strength to have his son beside him - he shouldn't rely on the boy like that - but it did, and he felt calm come over him. "How do we know we can trust you?"

Suddenly the woman was clearly visible, and only about 15 feet in front of them. He heard the hammer cock on Carl's gun and instinctively reached out his hand to halt him. The woman was short and slender, with a gun at her hip and a bow held loosely in her hand. She wasn't threatening them, but it was clear she could at any time if she chose to. Her head was slightly cocked to the side, studying them.

"Daryl said you were good people and that you wouldn't give me any trouble. Was he lying?" Her voice was warm and slightly husky. The kind that made a man want to hear more of it.

He let the thought pass through his mind like water. Voices didn't matter anymore, especially when they belonged to someone that could either help or hurt them in a matter of seconds. He had also noticed she had ignored his question. "Why isn't he with you?" Two could play the game of blowing off questions.

The woman stared at him for a long moment. She was sizing him up, and he oddly felt as if she found something missing when she shook her head. "He got beat pretty bad. He couldn't come out tonight, so I did instead." She gestured behind him with her empty hand. "That woman needs help. She won't make it another 24 hours if she isn't treated."

Rick glanced over his shoulder at Michonne, seeing that she had somehow gotten her feet under her and was holding her katana defensively. Her face was hauntingly pale in the faint light, and he saw a bead of sweat run down her face sluggishly. He turned back to the woman, slowly lowering his weapons. "You alone?" he asked softly.

"Yes."

Rick nodded, she could be lying, but it was a chance he would have to take. "Then I just have three questions for you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi there! Here's another chapter for you all! It's a little longer than the last couple because jeanf requested that I try to make the chapters longer. I'm a slow writer, so it's a double edged sword, but hopefully it's worth the wait. Thanks to those of you that have recently added me to your alerts. I keep walking around with a big smile because of you guys!**

**Guest: Your reviews always make me grin and this last one was no different! I'm so glad that this story keeps you guessing and interested. I thought that being able to move through the trees would give a person a definite advantage in that world, so that's why I chose to let her do that. Of course it fits with her name as well! I'm also glad that you liked that I had Rick ask the three questions. I just couldn't see him going with someone if he hadn't, even if the situation was dire. You made me laugh when you said that waiting for my updates is like waiting for next season! You are far too kind! At least I don't make you wait six months. I can be slow to update sometimes, but I've never been that bad. Thanks for your wonderful reviews, you are keeping my muse happy!**

**Chapter Six – Touch**

_Every choice we're making, every road we take, Every interaction starts a chain reaction, We're both affected when we least expected it, And when we touched then it all connected  
- Natasha Bedingfield _

Emma walked behind Rick, the boy taking the rear, and the woman's arm slung over her shoulder so she could half carry her over the deep leaf litter on the ground. The sun was just peeking its head over the horizon, and for that she was thankful. She knew the area well, but her new companions didn't, and they had been struggling over the terrain for the last couple of hours due to the darkness. That was why she was clinging to the sword wielding woman with all her fading strength. Rick had started out carrying her, but after he had gone down for the third time she had insisted on taking over the chore. She couldn't lift her up and carry her the way Rick had, but she was doing her best.

She scanned the trees ahead of them noting that they were less than a mile out from her camp, where Daryl was – in theory – waiting for them. She had no way of knowing if the pack of biters was still there as well, and she didn't particularly want to just walk up on them to find out. Ideally she would leave them behind and scout ahead to see if they had left yet, but she didn't think the leader of the rag-tag group would like that very much.

She had apparently passed his little test with the three questions, since he had started following her immediately after. However, she could tell by his posture and the way he kept an eye on her that he didn't really trust her. That was fine with her, she didn't trust him either. It did make this next part more difficult though, and that made her feel more than a little bit annoyed.

They had made it another quarter mile while she tried to formulate a plan, and she knew they needed to stop before they all wound up surrounded, so she halted and called out, "We need to stop here."

Rick was instantly at her side, trying to get the woman – Michonne was her name – off of Emma. "I can take her if you're getting tired. I don't think we should stop until we get to your camp."

Emma let him get Michonne off her shoulder, and then she ran her hand through her hair, pushing the loose strands back toward her braid. "About that…"

She glanced up and met Rick's instantly furious eyes. "What?" he growled lowly.

Emma sighed quietly_, Not gonna give me trouble, my ass, _she thought sullenly. "Look, I want to get you guys there as fast as I can. I know your woman needs help."

"My name is Michonne." Said woman grumbled quietly.

"Okay, I know we need to get _Michonne_ there as quickly as possible, but there's a small problem."

Rick shifted slightly, his hand going to the knife on his hip with an all too serious look on his face. "And what would that problem be?" His tone sounded reasonable, but she could see a slightly manic light in his eyes that she didn't much like.

"There was a pack of biters at camp when I left, and I don't know if they've moved on yet."

Rick's hand shot out and had her shirt in a death grip before she could even begin to move. "You left Daryl to a pack of walkers? What were you going to do to us? Save us for the next bunch that came through?" His voice was nothing more than a violent whisper, and Emma felt goose bumps prickle on her skin.

"No." She ground out through tightly clenched jaws. "My camp is in a tree, and the biters were at the bottom. There's no way they could get to him. There's also no way we could get to the ladder and up to safety if they're still there." She watched his eyes carefully as he processed what she had said. When she felt that he understood, she stepped back slightly, and felt his hand drop from her shirt.

He glanced down at the ground and seemed to try to collect himself. After a moment he looked back at her and nodded his head slightly. "Sorry for that."

She wasn't really in the mood to accept his apology, but she also wasn't ready to have it out with him. She had told Daryl she would bring his people back, and damn it all, she would. Then she could deck the presumptuous ass for grabbing her like that. She glared at him for a moment, then pointed off into the forest toward the little tree house. "I need to go and check it out. One of you can come with me if you want, but I don't think we should all go until we know it's clear. Now am I going alone, or is someone coming along?"

They were all silent for a moment then Rick carefully set Michonne against a tree and approached Emma again. "Can my boy have one of your guns to protect himself and Michonne with? We're out of ammo."

She turned to the young man that had moved beside her by that point. He looked to be about 14, but his eyes were as cold and hard as any grown man's. He hadn't spoken a word to her yet, and she wasn't sure what to make of him. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he promptly answered her unasked question. "I know how to handle a gun. I won't use it unless I have to."

She studied him for another second, before pulling her gun out of the holster and handing it to him. "You shoot me with it, you better prey I'm dead." She was surprised when the boy smiled at her a little as he took the gun. She hadn't been joking and she wasn't sure she liked that he was smiling about it. "What's so funny?"

The kid smiled even bigger and shook his head. "It's just that Daryl said almost that exact same thing to Andrea after she accidentally shot him."

Though she didn't think someone getting shot was a laughing matter, she couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at her lips. The kid had seemed incredibly serious, but when he loosened up a bit he seemed more like the kid he really was. She was still smiling when she spoke, "I agree with his sentiment. Now don't make me regret giving you that gun."

He smiled up at her for a minute before looking down and studying the gun. "Yes ma'am."

For some reason she wanted to reach out and pat the boy's shoulder or something, but she restrained herself and turned to face his father instead. "I assume you're coming with me then?"

He nodded, the anger and distrust having left his face to be replaced with a grateful smile. "Yes. You shouldn't take on a herd alone if that's what's there."

With the walls down around him, she was surprised to see the kind and gentle man beneath the shell. There was still a hardness to him that she understood, but he was no longer a dangerous animal, and she let loose a breath she had seemed to be holding since she found them. She hadn't been sure of his intentions until that moment, and now she was fairly certain that Daryl had been telling the truth. They were good people.

She smiled slightly at him, and saw his eyes soften even more, his lips quirking up in response. "Let's go then."

The sun had risen about an hour earlier, and Daryl was scanning the small clearing with growing apprehension. Squirrel had been gone for several hours now, and though he didn't know how far Rick could have made it with Michonne injured, he couldn't help but think she had been gone too long. The only bright spot in his day was the fact that most of the Walkers had wandered off as the sun came up. At that point there were only about six of them grouped at the base of the large tree, and a few others scattered in the area around it. There were still too many of them for him to get through on his own, at least in his current condition, but he felt confident that if Squirrel returned with his group they would be able to get into the safe house.

"Where you at girl?" he whispered quietly.

He reached up and rubbed his burning eyes. He was fried, and really wanted to just go to sleep, but he couldn't until Squirrel brought his people back. If they weren't back by midday, then he was going to pick off the walkers below with the bow, and go after them. He knew he wasn't in the best condition to do something like that, but he couldn't just sit around waiting for much longer. His eyes were fully functioning again, and the only parts of him that were hurting too bad were his ribs and hip. He wasn't in the best shape ever, but he was good enough to help out if they were in trouble.

He looked down and checked everything over on the bow for the hundredth time that morning, and then looked up to search for them again. The forest around him seemed completely still for a long moment; not even a single leaf fluttering in the breeze. Then as if that stillness had announced their arrival, Rick's head appeared over a small rise about 100 yards south of the tree house.

Daryl's chest constricted painfully at the sight of Michonne hanging limply in his arms. Carl was a few feet to Rick's right, with his gun drawn, but he wasn't firing. Squirrel was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly the walker closest to Rick went down, an arrow sticking out of the back of its head. Daryl looked down at his crossbow as if it had just fired by itself, but the bolt was still firmly resting on the rail. Then he jerked back with a very feminine yelp as a body launched itself through the window next to him.

"Start shooting!" Squirrel snarled as she turned back to the window and let loose another arrow.

He was quick to get his head back on straight, and raised his bow to help. He fired at the first walker he saw, dropping it instantly. Then he pulled the bow back in and reloaded it. By the time he had dropped another target, he could see that Squirrel had already taken out three. He knew that compound bows had the potential to be faster than a crossbow, but he had yet to see someone that was proficient enough to actually outdo him. He wasn't sure if he should be impressed or annoyed, but in that moment he decided to settle for thankful, because it just meant there were fewer walkers that needed to be taken down for his friends to get to safety.

It took less than a minute for the remaining six walkers to go down, and then Squirrel was back outside the window, moving swiftly over to a small floating platform he hadn't noticed before. She untied the rope holding it up, and lowered it to the ground.

"Put her on here, then come up the ladder."

Rick did as he was instructed and she struggled to pull the platform back up using the leverage she had with the rope over the large branch above her head. Michonne was half way up to the tree house when Daryl noticed Rick looking around with a confused expression on his face.

"Um Emma… Where is the ladder?"

Daryl turned his attention to Squirrel, who he had just discovered was really named Emma. He was slightly annoyed that she had told Rick her name, but not him. Of course Rick was a more likable person than he was, so he could understand it in a way. He wouldn't a' told him his name either. As he was looking at her she jerked her head toward him, a bead of sweat running down her forehead, and her muscles straining with the weight she was pulling up.

"Drop the damn ladder Daryl." She hoarsely growled at him.

He shot her an annoyed glare for an instant, then scanned the small landing before him for the ladder. It took him a moment to spot the rolled up rope ladder, but once he did he climbed out the window and released it into Rick's waiting hands. He didn't wait to see it they made it up or not, instead he strode over to where Squirrel was still struggling with the rope to pull Michonne up.

He wrapped his hands slightly above where hers were on the rope, "Let go." he commanded softly. She didn't budge from her spot, instead straining even harder to pull the unconscious woman up without his help. He released an exasperated sigh and braced his feet better so he could pull when she did. On the next tug he pulled with all his strength, and the rope jerked up swiftly. Squirrel lost her balance, and nearly tumbled out of the tree, but Daryl caught her elbow with one hand, while keeping tension on the rope with the other.

She glared at him for a moment, and Daryl was waiting for a biting comment, but it never came. Instead she righted herself, and placed her hands back on the rope. "On three this time?" she asked softly. He grunted his agreement, and she counted it out. The last pull went far more smoothly, and Michonne was level with them by the end of it. "Thanks." she whispered as she dropped to her knees next to the prone form of the woman on the platform.

Daryl wanted to say something, maybe thank her as well, but then Rick was there. He dropped to a crouch and picked Michonne up, carrying her to the window where Carl waited to help his father through the window.

Daryl stood out on the landing for a few moments while the others bustled about the crowded space inside the house. He looked over the clearing, and decided to go down and collect her arrows and his bolts before another bunch of walkers made their way into the area. He carefully made his way down the ladder, being mindful not to strain the muscles over his ribs too much. They were already screaming in protest over his foolish display with pulling Michonne up. He wasn't sure what had gotten into him. Sure Emma hadn't been making fast progress, but she would have gotten her up, and he hadn't needed to act like a dick to help her. Hell, he could have hurt her if she had fallen out of the tree because of his antics, and who knows what would have happened. She might have just kicked them all out for it.

He walked around pulling arrows out of skulls while he thought it over. He wasn't sure if Rick had seen it or not, but he was surprised that the older man hadn't even spoken to him. Maybe he thought that Daryl had been in on the attack by Joe's guys. That was a thought that made his heart ache a little, and he pushed it away as quickly as he could. He had plucked the last bolt out of a corpse when he heard the wood creak above him, and he glanced up to see Rick standing there looking pale.

"How is she?" he softly called as he made his way up the ladder.

Rick just nodded his head slightly, and looked Daryl over with tired eyes. "Emma said you were pretty beat up, but I had no idea." Rick was practically whispering, and Daryl had to strain to hear him "What happened?"

Daryl looked at his friend for a minute then cleared his throat. "They said you killed oen of their guys in some house. They were out for blood. I didn't know what ta do." He shrugged his shoulders and looked away. "I'm sorry."

"Can we trust her?" Daryl glanced up and saw Rick nod toward the woman that was currently leaned over Michonne, obviously working hard on the wound in her side.

He shrugged again. "She stopped those guys from killin' me, and went after you. Seems like a good enough person."

Rick nodded, and moved to go back in the small building, but paused and looked back at Daryl, "Thank you. For everything, brother."

Emma sat with her back against the wall, knees to her chest, and her eyes closed. She had finally finished up with the woman, and now she could take a few minutes to catch her breath. She had been moving nonstop for the last 36 hours, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could go on like that. It had taken her almost three hours to tend to Michonne's injuries, and she still wasn't completely pleased by the results. She had lost a lot of blood, and there was quite a bit of damage done to the muscles in her side. She had been lucky in that it hadn't hit any organs, and the bullet had gone clean through her, but there was only so much Emma could do without the benefit of being able to do a blood transfusion.

"Here." Emma's eyes jerked up at the sound of Daryl's rather rough voice, and she found that he was holding a steaming can of beans out to her. She looked at him for a minute, then stretched her hand out and carefully took it from him. She hadn't eaten since the previous morning, and she was famished.

"Thanks." She whispered softly, as she plucked a few beans out with her fingers and placed them in her mouth. She was thankful that she had washed the blood off her hands before she sat down. It would have been unpleasant to eat otherwise.

Daryl moved to her side and sat down with a grunt, his body mirroring her own. "She gonna make it?" he asked quietly after a moment.

Emma shrugged and glanced over at the sleeping woman. "I think she'll pull through. She seems tough, but I've done all I can for 'er at this point. It's up to her now." She took another couple bites of her food, then turned to look at Daryl. "You look a lot better."

She saw him shrug, and pick at one of his cuticles nervously. It looked like he was about to say something else, but they were abruptly interrupted by Rick and Carl dropping to the floor in front of them.

Carl smiled at her, raising his own can of beans up toward her in a salutation while Rick dug into a can of tuna in oil. "Thanks for feeding us and helping Michonne, ma'am." Carl said.

Emma smiled at him, and didn't resist the inclination to muss up his hair this time. "You're welcome kiddo."

Rick cleared his throat, and Emma turned to him. He had a serious expression on his face, and his eyes were grim. "Have you seen anybody else come through here? We're part of a larger group, and we got separated a few weeks ago… We need to find anybody we can."

She felt her stomach shift uncomfortably, and she had to set her food down, drinking some water instead to settle it down. She hadn't seen anybody, but that didn't mean they hadn't gone by on the tracks. She didn't spend much time at this camp usually, so they could have easily moved by her territory without her knowing. She looked back up at Rick after finishing the canteen off, and sighed. "I haven't seen anybody except you four and Joe's group, but they could have passed without my knowledge."

Rick nodded, "Do we have your permission to search the area nearby for them?"

"My territory is everything west of the tracks to the river, north to the county line, and south to the Terminus boundary line. You're welcome to look all you want, but be careful of the traps I have out there."

Rick smiled at her slightly, "Thank you. We'll help you with chores or anything we can to pay you back for your help and hospitality."

Emma was thinking over her possible responses when Daryl cut in, "I was with Beth for a while…"

Rick and Carl both jerked their eyes to him with matching expressions of shock, but Carl was the first to speak, "Where is she?"

Daryl didn't look up them, just continued to pick at his fingers. "She's gone."

Rick sighed quietly, and ran a hand through his hair. "She get bit?"

"No. She's just gone…"

Emma's head was jerking back and forth between the three people, trying to figure out who this person they were talking about was. Obviously she was someone from their group, but the tones they used when speaking of her were odd. Carl had seemed happy at the news of her apparent survival, but when Rick had asked if she had gotten bitten he hadn't sounded even a little bit surprised. Perhaps she was a child?

Carl interrupted her thought, "What do you mean she's just gone, Daryl? Is she dead, or not?"

Daryl sighed, and shifted around a bit before looking up at the boy. His expression was so full of self-loathing and sorrow that Emma felt her heart break simply from looking at him. "We were stayin' at this funeral home, and it seemed so good… Too good I guess. The second night we were there we got surprised by a bunch of walkers." He paused and rubbed his face roughly, and Emma saw that he was trying to hide a tear that had been threatening to escape from his troubled eyes. "I told 'er to go out the window, that I'd meet 'er at the road. I was only a minute behind 'er… but when I got out there 'er bag was layin' on the road and she weren't there with it. A car sped off, an' I knew she was in it… I chased it all night and half the next day, but she was just… gone."

He abruptly jumped to his feet and was out the window before anybody could move. Emma felt alarm bells going off in her head. Though her area was nothing but forest, she hadn't always lived there. She had traveled around for a while with her group, and then alone after they split up, and she had met people during that time. Some of those people had seemed okay, and others had been terrible. The man at the funeral home had just been crazy.

She looked up at the man and the boy across from her, and saw that they both looked fairly shocked and lost. She cleared her throat in hopes that it would break the spell over them. Carl remained shut down, but Rick looked at her with tired eyes. "What is Beth like?"

He smiled a little at her. "She's real sweet, hasn't let this life change her as much as it has the rest of us."

Emma nodded, "How old is she?"

Rick frowned slightly, and scratched the scruff on his chin for a moment, obviously trying to come up with an answer for her. "She must be nearly 19 now. Her birthday is in the fall sometime. Might have already gone by. Why?"

Emma didn't answer his question, instead she jumped to her feet, knocking the half full can of beans over in the process. "I need to talk to Daryl. I'll be back in a minute." She didn't wait for Rick to respond, just climbed out the window and walked over to where Daryl was sitting at the end of the narrow ledge in front of the house. She sat down next to him, and looked out into the forest for a moment trying to collect her thoughts. She wasn't sure she wanted to get any more involved with the group than she already was, but she also knew she couldn't just send them away. They would die over the winter without a safe place to stay, and it wouldn't be right to leave the girl where she was. If she was where Emma thought she was, anyway.

She turned to him, and carefully touched his shoulder, noting that he stiffened under her touch. "What did the car look like?"

He shrugged her hand off, and looked at her with a dark glare. "Wha'chu care?"

She merely raised her eyebrows and waited for him to answer the question. He huffed out a harsh breath, and looked away from her. "It was a dark color, had a cross on the back window. Big ol' caddy or sumfin."

Emma was still for a long moment. If she said the next words then these people would become her people. She would have to take them to the big camp, open it back up, and let herself open up to the human species again. She didn't know if she was ready for that, but she did know that if she didn't say those words then she would lose what little humanity was left within her. There wouldn't really be a point in surviving anymore. With that realization she took a deep breath, "I know where she is."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi there folks! I hope you are all doing well, and surviving the weeks without our favorite show without too much trouble. I managed to get this chapter done, so I wanted to get it out to you guys right away. I'm going to be completely honest and tell you guys that I have NEVER updated a story this frequently and I'm really surprised that I am working this fast on this one. I'm just thankful my muse is being so prolific. She usually requires blood sacrifices and gobs of reviews to keep her happy. So, I suppose this is also a slight warning... I may not be able to keep this rate up on the updates, but I'm going to try. Reviews will definitely help! Thanks to those of you that are showing your support with every update. I love to see new people adding me to their lists. It makes me very happy!**

**Guest: Thanks for your lovely review! Don't worry, the rest of the group will get brought into the story, but it will take time. I actually debated whether I should bring Beth or the other groups up first, but then I realized that no one knows about the other groups yet. We'll get there though! I hope this chapter answers some of your questions regarding the people that have Beth and the big camp. More will be revealed on both fronts in upcoming chapters, and I think there will be some pretty good surprises in there for you. As for the relationship with Daryl/Beth/Emma... well I think you will see some stuff in this chapter that will probably confuse you even more. I do assure you that this is a Daryl/OC story, but it is going to take time. I believe our other characters believe they have certain feelings for each other, and that has to get worked out first. I have a plan for that though, so have no fear! Thanks again for all your wonderful reviews! I wish you had an account so I could write you better messages, but alas... Thanks!**

**On with the show!**

**Chapter Seven – Victoria Falls**

_ I wonder where do we go – where do we go – tell me where. I need something stronger – to keep my feet on the ground – are you content chasing shadows – I find no peace in what you have found – your hopeful unknown – tell me, where do we go_

- _Anadel_

Daryl felt like he had suddenly been struck by lightning; every nerve in his body buzzing in pain and excitement. His hand jerked out to grab her shirt without him actually consciously doing it. He was rewarded with a very angry glare from her, and he promptly dropped the fabric that was enclosed in his fist. He patted the scrunched fabric, and blushed furiously when he realized that he had actually been roughly patting her breast. The electric excitement still remained, but it was slightly dampened by the mortification he was feeling for his actions.

He jerked his eyes from the onyx fury that was currently being directed at him, and cleared his throat. "Where's she at?"

He felt her shift away from him, and was a little guilty for making her uncomfortable. Not that he wasn't uncomfortable enough for both of them of course. He hadn't felt a woman up in years, and he had to admit to himself that even the brief contact hadn't felt half bad. Her breasts had been firm, and round, probably big enough to overflow in his palm… _What the hell am I thinkin'!?_ He shook his head to remove the offending thoughts, and looked back at her eyes, his face feeling like it was a brilliant crimson color.

"She's safe." Squirrel said softly, not looking at him.

Daryl growled softly, the flush of embarrassment being replaced with one of irritation. "That ain't what I asked, girl."

She sighed softly and turned to look at him, her face filled with conflicted emotions that he couldn't even begin to understand. "She's probably a couple days walk from here, at an old dairy."

Daryl studied her for a moment, noticing that she seemed both closed and open at the same time. As if she was opening up, but really didn't want to. He could understand that dilemma since he was almost always stuck in the same place. He couldn't help but think 'bout what Beth could do for another person that was like him in that way. Maybe Beth would be able to get her to open up, to feel comfortable with the group the way she had done with him. He would never know if he didn't go out and find that girl.

"Which way?" he asked, surprising himself with how calm his voice was.

She lifted an arm and pointed to the west. "About a day west of the river, near a town. I don't know what it was called before."

He started to rise to his feet, "Well I better go get 'er then."

He felt a hand reach out, and forcefully grab his arm, pulling him back into a seated position. "You're in no condition to travel. I'll take Rick and go for her."

Daryl snarled down at her, meeting her eye with his fierce glare. "I lost 'er, I'm gonna be the one ta find 'er."

He noticed that her eyes had gone completely calm, maybe even serene. "You can't get her alone. You'll need me if you want to get her out safely. We'll leave in the morning."

He felt his blood seething in his veins. He didn't want to wait for morning, and he didn't want no one tagging along slowing him down. "I'm leavin' now, and I don't need no girl taggin' 'long to hold me up."

He saw that her expression hadn't changed in the least, and he was surprised. It had seemed that she had the same fiery temper that he did, but she wasn't rising to the occasion. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Rick's calm voice. "She's right, brother. You need to rest. You don't know where the dairy is, and even if you did, you wouldn't be able to attack it alone. I'll go with her tonight, after everyone gets a little rest."

Daryl glanced up to see Rick standing in the window reloading his pistol, a familiar expression on his face. He wasn't going to take no for an answer, and the subject wasn't up for discussion. Unfortunately for Rick this wasn't' somethin' that Daryl was willing to let up on either. He was about to tell Rick to go to hell, but that damn girl sighed with annoyance, and it broke his concentration.

She looked up at him with those big brown eyes, and he could see that the serenity was gone. It had been replaced by a look that he somehow remembered from all those years ago. She was afraid, and… and something else that he couldn't place. He hadn't been able to place it then either, but he knew he didn't like it. "Fine." She whispered. "We'll leave now. Let me pack some supplies, and we'll go." She gracefully rose to her feet and slipped back into the treetop cabin.

Rick stared at him for a long moment before he looked down and ran his fingers through his short, curly hair. "I should go with her. You're a mess, and you need to heal up." He paused and looked back at Daryl; his eyes were resigned, and unhappy. "But I know you're just going to fly off the handle and come after us if I tell you to stay. Carl and Michonne need someone here, so I guess I'll be that person."

Daryl nodded his appreciation, and slipped back through the window. He saw Squirrel checking Michonne's bandages, and could hear her quietly giving Carl instructions for her care, though he couldn't make out the words through the haze in his skull.

He walked over to the weapon wall and pulled a pack off of a shelf under it. He then strode over to the kitchen and pulled two bags of some kind of jerky off the shelf and shoved it into the bag. He also grabbed a can of tuna, two cans of tomatoes, and a couple bottles of waters before he swung around and made his way over to the blue medical bag by the bed. Be pulled out a few packs of gauze, some disinfectant, and some other random medical supplies and shoved them into the pack with the food and water. His last stop was the armory wall, and he stood there impatiently waiting for Squirrel to get over there and pick what her weapons would be.

He didn't have to wait long, as a moment later she was pulling the same holster on as she had the previous night, and selecting the same weapons. This time she threw an extra box of ammo for each gun into the pack, and cleaned the shelf of arrows, but otherwise she didn't change up her preparations in any way. He rammed a shotgun, and a box of shells into the pack after she had walked away. Then he took every last crossbow bolt and shoved an extra knife into the waistband of his pants. Then he strode toward the window without a second glance.

He had to stand on the ground below the base for a few long moments while he half listened to Squirrel give Rick directions to some other camp. He mostly ignored what they were saying, but when he heard his name he looked up at the pair. Her voice carried more than Rick's and he focused on what she was saying.

"As soon as she's able to move you guys head out, and we'll meet you there on our return trip. If everything goes according to plan we should all get there around the same time." She paused, and Daryl saw Rick nodding his head. "Daryl and I will get it opened up on our way out. That way you guys just have to get there and get in."

Rick smiled slightly, and Daryl felt annoyance for a moment. They should be goin' for Beth, not standin' 'round jawin'. He was about to interrupt their little chat and say that, but then Squirrel was climbing down the tree and walking toward him. She didn't look at him as she walked past, so he didn't talk to her. It would be better to just be quiet; talkin' was a waste of air. Air that he would need to find Beth.

* * *

Emma led the way through the forest the sun blaring on her back and making her already exhausted body protest even more. They had been walking for the last three hours straight, and there would only be daylight for another two hours at most. The darkness would at least give them a respite from the heat, but it would give them other troubles. It would probably take them at least five more hours to get to the big camp, and that would mean walking in the dark for a good long while. She considered saying that they would make camp at dark, but she doubted her companion would go for it, and she also didn't much like the idea of being on the ground while she tried to rest. There were too many things that prowled on the forest floor.

She continued on for another half hour, just trying to push on, but finally she had to succumb and call a short break. She stopped abruptly, and felt Daryl's body heat when he almost walked right into her. She turned around to face him and immediately noticed the hard glare in his eyes.

"What ya doin' girl?"

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at him, and grabbed the pack slung over his shoulder instead. "Water." He grunted and handed her the pack while he scanned the forest around them. She pulled one of the bottles out and drank deeply, feeling the warm water filling her with its life giving energy. She looked around for a moment then passed the bottle to the anxious man.

He looked at it with contempt for a moment, then took it from her hand and took a small drink. He held it in his mouth for a moment, as if he was tasting it to see if it was safe, and then he swallowed it and promptly chugged almost half the bottle. "Thanks." He grumbled as he handed it back to her. She took one last drink, then put in in the pack and handed the bag back to him. This was his little mission, so he could carry the damn pack.

She walked off again, and could hear the faint sound of him following her. She was just getting back into the silent rhythm of moving through the forest when his voice broke it. "So, we stoppin' somewhere?"

She paused in her steps for a moment, and glanced over her shoulder to meet his troubled eyes. Then she nodded and moved on. "We have to stop at the big camp. I need to get it opened up for your friends."

It was quiet again for several minutes, and Emma was relieved that the conversation seemed to be over, but before she could get too comfortable, he spoke again. "There other people there?"

She sighed loudly. Why couldn't he just let the subject drop? This was not a topic she much wanted to discuss right now. Hell, she didn't ever want to discuss it. She stopped and rounded on him. "No. There is nobody else there. They're all gone. We just need to get things opened up and safe so you guys have a place to stay. That okay with you?" She was surprised by how furious and loud her voice was as it came out.

Daryl's eyes were confused and a little angry after her outburst, but he raised his hands slightly in surrender. "Easy, girl." he murmured. He took a small step forward, and shook his head as if he was arguing with himself over the move. "I just figured you had backup someplace out here with the way Joe acted."

Emma's brain froze up for a moment, everything stopping and yet racing at the same time. Of course he would be curious about that… there wasn't really anything about it that would make sense. Even without the incident with Joe, her living alone in the woods probably wouldn't really make sense to him, not with his previous experience with her. Finally she broke free from her trance, and saw that Daryl was looking at her with a bemused expression. She cleared her throat, and though she had a little speech planned out in her mind, only one word passed her lips. "Oh."

Daryl cocked his eyebrows at her, obviously awaiting a further explanation. Finally she broke eye contact with him, and sighed. "It's just me. The others have been gone for a long time. Moved on. I had a run in with Joe's group a few months ago. It didn't go well for them… or me… but I came out on top. They remember stuff like that."

She chanced a glance at him, and could see that he was struggling with wanting to know more, and wanting to keep moving, so she made the decision for him and started forward again. The sun was already heading toward the horizon, and she didn't want to spend any more time out in the dark than they had too.

She didn't hear his footsteps behind her for a minute, but then they were there. She slowed slightly to allow him to catch up to her, and felt an odd sense of relief when he moved to walk beside her instead of behind her. It wasn't relief because she was afraid he would shoot her in the back or something, though. It was simply the relief of having another living person beside her after solitude for so long. That awareness scared the hell out of her, and she picked up the pace so she was in the lead again. She couldn't let herself get close to these people, it would only make it hurt worse when they were gone.

* * *

Daryl stood looking up at the hulking shadow above him. It was full dark, and had been for a few hours, but there was enough light cast from the sliver of a moon to see the outline of the monstrous building above him. He couldn't tell exactly how large it was, but he would guess it was at least the size of C block back at the prison. He noted then that Squirrel wasn't by his side anymore, and he glanced around for her. Then a light lit up above him and he saw her silhouette in a large window. The light drowned out almost the entire building, the brightness making the dark shape impossible to see, but he was able to spot a large landing and a rope ladder hanging down for him.

He approached it cautiously, and climbed up with a bit of difficulty. The few hours of unconsciousness he had had the previous night wasn't really cutting it, and his injuries were making sure he didn't forget about them. When he neared the top he saw her hand extended to him and grasped it gratefully as she helped haul his sorry ass onto the porch. He looked into the room behind her, and was shocked by what he saw. Though he could only see a small portion of the room, it looked like a damn mansion.

He looked down at the woman, and saw a tired smile flit across her face. "Welcome to the big camp." She shifted her gaze to the inside of the house, and he saw her face contort into an unpleasantly sad scowl. Then she climbed in the window and beckoned him in behind her.

Once he was inside he took a moment to let the surroundings sink in. The room was obviously a kitchen, though it lacked what most people would associate with such a room; only containing a long counter, and a camp stove. However, there were shelves filled with canned goods, and other shelves that housed more dried food than he had seen in a while. It actually reminded him of when he first walked into the pantry of the prison and saw all that food. It was a little overwhelming really, so he looked the other way. The middle of the room had four large picnic style tables, probably enough seating for about 40 people, if they squished up together. The back wall housed book shelves that had a large number of books, though they were far from full. There were two doorways at the ends of it, and a staircase that led above though he couldn't see what was up there. He also noticed that there were several more shuttered windows scattered along the walls.

"This ain't no camp." He mumbled, and was surprised when he heard Squirrel chuckle softly.

He looked back at her, and saw her shrug slightly, "Call it what ya want. I've just always called 'em camps."

"There are more a' these places?"

She nodded, "Yeah, the rest are like where we were. Small. Just for a couple people to go out hunting or scouting."

It made sense to him; places that people could find safety if they went out for food or whatever else a big group would want to do. Glen and Maggie would have loved the opportunity for real privacy. The fact that this place was as big as it was troubled him some though. It was obviously built for a large group, and they were nowhere to be seen. He would have asked her about it, but her little outburst on the trip there had cured him of that desire. He wasn't much in the mood to have his head ripped off by some little Squirrel.

He watched her stride over to the base of the stairs. She looked over her shoulder at him, and he could see the exhaustion tugging her down. "I'm going to take advantage of the shower. You can use it when I'm done if you want." With that she slowly climbed the steps up into the concealed room above.

Once she was gone Daryl slumped onto one of the benches and rested his elbows on the table before him, his head hanging limply. After a minute he straightened himself up and pulled a strip of jerky out of the pack, beginning to chew on it thoughtfully. He looked around the room trying to decide where he should sleep for the night, and was pleased to discover a row of padded benches over by the bookcases. He finished eating is meager meal and made his way over to the bench, removing his boots and reclining with an exhausted sigh. He would love to shower as well, but at that moment he didn't think he had the energy. They would be back there soon, and then he could get cleaned up.

He laid there for a few moments, his eyes closed and his mind drifting between wakefulness and sleep. Then he heard Squirrel's soft footsteps on the stairs and groggily opened his eyes. He jerked slightly at the sight of the woman. She hardly even looked like the same person. Her hair hung in loose, wet waves to well below her waist, and she was dressed clean, grey cargo pants and a black t-shirt that clung to her body. He felt himself swallow hard and wasn't entirely sure why. She was obviously a very attractive woman, but he knew his heart belonged to someone else. He just had to go get her, and then his foolishly hormonal body could stop acting like he was a damn teenager.

He closed his eyes, and pictured Beth's pretty, innocent face in his mind for a few moments. He felt himself growing calmer, and dared to peer out at the woman that had made her way to the bench, and was sitting by his feet. She had swept her hair back and was in the process of braiding it up again, the muscles in her arms moving gracefully under her faintly tanned skin. He looked up at her eyes and saw that hers were closed, but she must have felt his eyes on her because she spoke.

"You gonna hit up the shower?"

He closed his eyes again, "Naw. I'm too damn tired for that now. When we get back."

"Alright. Good night then, Daryl."

He felt her leave the bench, and then a moment later the large room was bathed in darkness. He felt himself slipping off to sleep almost instantly, but managed to mumble at her before he was claimed completely, "'Night, Squirrel."

* * *

Beth sat in a large family room surrounded by the people that were claiming to be her new family. She couldn't say that she really disliked the women around her, but she was also far too frightened by the situation to claim that she thought much of them at all. There were eight women, two babies under a year old, and nine other children that ranged from two to twelve. And then there was the man of the house. The same man that had taken her. He said his name was Solomon and that like his namesake, he knew it was his duty to God to have as many wives as he could. He said that God had spoken to him in a dream and told him that he was to gather all the surviving women in this world and make them his own. That he alone was to use his seed to repopulate this world.

Beth knew he was completely out of his mind, but she didn't dare say anything of the sort, because all the other women seemed to agree with him. She had been in the house for over a week, and other than Solomon coming to her the second day, and putting a ring on her finger, nothing had happened to her. Yet. She knew it was only a matter of time before he decided to consummate the marriage he had decided existed between them. She didn't know what she would do when that time came.

She had been given free run of the house at the same time the ring had gone on her, but there was no way to get outside. The windows were all barred and both doors to the outside were locked. Only Solomon and his first wife, Eve, had keys, and they kept them on their persons at all times. A few of the other women were allowed to go outside under the supervision of the two, but Beth, the children, and two of the newer women were under lock and key at all times. It was a desperate situation, and Beth figured she didn't really have any options. She could only try to be thankful that she was being fed well, and was safe from the walkers. Maybe someday she would be given the freedom to go outside, and when that happened she just hoped she would still have heart enough to run away. Based on the attitudes of the other women she wasn't completely sure.

Her ruminations were interrupted when Eve stood up from where she had been mending on the couch, and crouched in front of Beth with a kind smile. "Beth, honey, let's get you prettied up. We got you worked into the schedule, and you get to spend tonight with Solomon."

Beth felt her blood freeze and her head was suddenly spinning like she was going to faint. She felt as if by thinking of her predicament she had somehow brought the event up. She wanted to jerk her hand from the woman and run screaming through the house, but she held completely still, and fought to hold her tears at bay. This wasn't how it was supposed to be for her. Her first time was supposed to be with someone she loved, and that loved her. She had toyed with the idea that that person might be Daryl that night she was taken. The way they had sat in the kitchen, and the look he had given her. She had thought maybe he was going to kiss her then. Of course the walkers had to show up and ruin everything, and now here she was, about to lose her virginity to crazed cult leader.

She took a steadying breath and tried to force a smile for the older woman, it wouldn't help to act like a petulant child. "Okay," was all she managed to say, and then she was being gently pulled to her feet. They were headed to the long hallway when the strangest noise filled the house. She would swear that it sounded like someone was knocking on the door, but she knew that wasn't possible. The walkers sure didn't knock on the front door, and she knew there wasn't anyone living around to do it either. One of the women had told her the first night she was there that no one could get to the old dairy, and Beth was sure it was true.

Then there was the knocking sound again, and Eve dropped her hands, a confused frown on her face. She smoothed it away when she saw Beth looking at her, and smiled softly instead. "Well who could that be? I guess I better get the door. You wait right here dear. I'm sure I won't be long."

Beth remained standing in the hall, her heart blooming up with hope. Maybe Daryl had found her after all.

**Thanks for reading! Please be so kind as to review! My muse likes it!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello there folks! I finally have another chapter up for you! Yippee! Sorry it was a little longer wait than you're used to... It's spring on the farm, and I had to do TAXES. Yuck! Anyway, I'll try to be a little faster with the next chapter, but I can't make any promises. This is really probably about how long updates will generally take me. I'm sure I can make it faster if I get a lot of reviews though...**

**Thanks to those of you that added me to your alerts, and those of you that are reading this in general. I would love to hear from you all, and find out what you guys think. It really helps me write this when I know what you guys like. Thanks for being there!**

**Guest: As always, thank you for your review! You always leave such wonderful reviews, and they never fail to make my day! I'm glad you liked the description of the big camp, as well as the bit from Beth's POV. I think she will be getting more page space as I continue this story, so it's nice to hear that she is enjoyable to read. There will be a little romantic conflict I suppose, but like I said, I have that all worked out in my little head. Have no fear. Thanks again for your reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. Have a great day!**

**guest: Thanks for the review! I hope you continue to enjoy this story, and that you will share your thoughts with me again!**

**Ashley: I'm sorry I didn't write you a note on the last chapter! Hope this makes up for it! Thanks for your review, and I hope I can keep this story good enough that you continue to love it!**

**Oh, I realized that I have never put a disclaimer on this story, so here it is: I do not own any of the characters, plots, or places from The Walking Dead. All those belong to AMC, Robert Kirkman, and the rest of the gang. I am not making any money from this story, and I'm only writing this for entertainment. All original characters and plots do belong to me. Thank you.**

**So, here we go with chapter eight! Hope you guys enjoy it!**

**Chapter Eight – Black Balloon**

_Comin' down the world turned over, And angels fall without you there, And I go on as you get colder, All because I'm, Comin' down the years turn over, And angels fall without you there, And I'll go on and I'll lead you home and, All because I'm, All because I'm, And I'll become, What you became to me_

- _Goo Goo Dolls_

"So wha's the plan of attack?" Daryl's voice was gruff and impatient, as they crouched in the brush at the edge of the creek 200 yards from the large farm house. Emma turned to him, and saw that he was checking over his chosen weapons, a hard expression on his dirty face.

She released a long, weary breath, and touched her hand to his, stilling his movement. "There is no plan of attack. This is a _negotiation_, not a war. We're going to knock on the front door, and you're going to follow my lead." She paused to make sure he was paying attention, then continued. "Whatever I say or do you need to just go with it. Can you do that?"

She stared into his blue eyes, and could see his suspicion and confusion. After a moment he looked away from her and jerked his head in a short nod. "As long as you get her out a' there safe, ya do what ya want."

She turned away from him, and set her bow on the ground next to the pack. "Okay, then leave your shotgun, and bow here." She pulled her holster off, and handed him the gun that had been in it. "You can have this, but tuck it somewhere that it won't be seen. You can keep your knife visible though."

She saw him stiffen at her orders, but he did as she said. "I don' like this." He said gruffly.

"I don't either, but we can't do this with force. The only reason I'm letting you take those weapons is in case you can't get back here for these and you need to fight biters on the way back to camp."

He grunted and slipped the .45 into the back of his pants, just like she had her .38. "Okay, let's do this before it gets totally dark."

She led the way out of the brush and into the small meadow, her footsteps nearly silent on the dry grass. She was filled with tension, though her body didn't show it. She knew there were a great number of things that could go wrong with her plan, but she also knew that they couldn't just go in guns blazing. There were too many innocent lives at risk in that scenario, even if the only person they harmed was Solomon. All those women and children counted on him to provide for them, and they would be lost without him. Not to mention that most of them would most likely try to kill them for harming their protector. She just hoped that they had gotten there fast enough to stop the brainwashing the girl was most likely receiving.

When they got to the door Daryl reached out and knocked loudly. Emma turned to him and gave him a hard look, which he returned tenfold. She knew this was important to him, but he needed to get himself under control before he made things worse than they already were. "I said for you to follow _my_ lead. You got that?"

He only grunted at her, but took a step back from the door. She waited a moment, and when no one had responded to his knock, she tried again. They only had to wait a moment, and the woman of the house opened the door, a cold look on her face.

"What are you doing here, Emma? Bringing a _man_ to our home, no less…"

Emma had been hoping that Eve wouldn't be the one to answer the door. The older woman rather detested her, for a multitude of reasons. Though the main reason was probably the fact that her husband had wanted Emma more than any other woman he had come across over the years, and he had made it plainly clear that Eve would lose her place as first wife to Emma. That hadn't happened of course, because Emma had booked it out of there at her first opportunity. She wasn't sure if that had pleased or infuriated the older woman. Based on the look on Eve's face, it hadn't made her very happy.

Emma straightened herself, and forced calm into her voice, "We are here to collect this man's wife. Solomon took her." She saw Daryl stiffen out of the corner of her eye, and briefly admonished herself for not telling him that little part of the plan.

"We don't have his wife. You're mistaken." Eve moved to close the door on them, but Daryl moved faster, and jammed his foot in the threshold.

"That car parked on the side a' the house is the one that took her. I know she's in there, woman." His voice was little more than a low growl, but Emma knew that Eve had clearly heard every word of it. Her face had gone pale and her eyes jerked to the left for an instant. Then the woman stepped back and opened the door, inviting them in with her hand.

"I assure you that if your wife is here, she was taken without the knowledge of her prior marriage." They followed Eve into the sitting room and found more women than Emma had expected. Solomon had only had five wives during the short time she spent with him, but now it looked like there were eight. At least there were eight in that room; there could have been more in other parts of the house. Eve turned back to Daryl, and swept her hand toward the other women. "Is your wife here?"

Daryl looked the woman hard in the eyes, but Emma could see that hopelessness was trying to fill him. "Naw."

Emma was about to apologize for interrupting their evening, but she was stopped by a pretty, young blonde racing into the room. "Daryl!" she shouted in a breathless voice, as she launched herself into his arms. Emma saw Daryl stiffen for a moment, and then his arms went around her thin body and hugged her back for a long moment. Then he gently set her on her feet beside him, and swiftly pushed her small body behind his own when Solomon entered the room.

Emma hadn't seen him approaching, but was unsurprised to see him. That girl had made quite a racket with her excitement. Not that Emma could blame her; she would have been equally enthusiastic if anyone had come for her when she was in that position.

Solomon moved to stand next to Eve, a dark expression on his face. "What's going on here Eve?"

Emma didn't allow the woman time to answer the question with her own twisted version of the story. "Solomon, we came to collect this man's wife. You took her from the funeral home, and now we are taking her back."

His eyes left Beth and Daryl, and focused on her instead. His hard stare made her want to slink into the shadows, but she stood tall and met his gaze with calm eyes. "What an unfortunate mistake… Had this woman told me that she was married I would not have taken her for my own. Unfortunately, I have already performed the ceremony, and she is married to me now."

* * *

Daryl felt like he had run a marathon, and emotionally he supposed he had. He had gone from nervous anxiety, to confusion, to hopelessness, to overwhelming joy and relief, and now he was back to nervous anxiety. All in less than five minutes. Now his head was spinning, and he felt like he might be sick. He had always been ill equipped to handle emotional turmoil, but he didn't think anyone could handle what he had just gone through and feel okay about it.

Squirrel stood to his left and one step ahead of him, while Beth stayed behind him and slightly to his right. Her hand rested softly on his bicep, and he could feel the slight trembling of her fingers. Or at least he thought it was her; it felt like his whole body was shaking, so maybe it was actually him. He couldn't even begin to put his relief into words. He had found her, and though she didn't exactly seem _well_ she did appear to be physically alright. He hadn't gotten to look at her for long before pushing her safely behind his body, but it had been long enough to see her bright blue eyes swimming with happy tears, and her brilliant smile.

He heard the large, older man speak, but at first the words didn't sink into his head. When they did he wished they hadn't. He could only imagine what kind of _ceremony_ this freak would use to claim that he was married to Beth. And while he was on the subject of marriage… where on earth had Squirrel come up with the idea that _he_ was married to Beth? Sure, he had feelin's for the girl, but he didn't really know what they meant. Hell, they hadn't ever even kissed. Yeah, he'd thought about it, but thinkin' 'bout kissin' a girl and bein' married to 'er were pretty far apart.

He was shaken from his thoughts by Squirrel shifting forward slightly, and cocking her head to the side to study the man before them. Her voice was low, and carried a lot of emotion when she spoke. "You know, I think I remember something in the bible about not coveting another man's wife. Am I remembering incorrectly?"

The man – she'd referred to him as Solomon he thought – chuckled slightly and shook his head. "No, you remember correctly, but that no longer applies in this world. Especially if the man leaves his wife to die." He turned to Daryl with a look of utter contempt on his face. It was an expression that Daryl knew well from his past, and it made his veins burn with rage. Then his eyes darkened slightly and he looked back at Squirrel. "She was at my old home, and she was about to be taken down by a bunch of biters. I did what I had to in order to protect her. Why was she alone?"

Daryl saw Squirrel open her mouth to reply, but he cut her off. "We. _We_ were at the funeral home. I was right behind 'er. I know ya heard me yellin' for 'er while you drove away in such a hurry."

Solomon smirked at him, "I have no idea what you're talkin' about, son. She was alone." His voice sounded sure and sincere, but his eyes held the truth. He had known Daryl was there; he just didn't care.

Daryl jerked forward, his hand on the buck knife at his waist, but Squirrel reached her hand out and pushed back on his chest. "Well, it seems this is all just a misunderstanding. No harm done. We'll just take her with us, and all will be forgiven."

Solomon shook his head, and looked truly sorry, "That isn't possible. I put that ring on her finger in the sight of God, and you know He wouldn't take kindly to me just letting her walk away. She is obviously a strong survivor, and the children she will bear can repopulate this world in His image." He paused and smiled warmly at them all, a disquieting glint in his eyes. "I can't just let her walk away. Not without something in return…"

Daryl glanced at Squirrel to judge her reaction so he could figure out what the hell the guy was goin' on about now. When he saw her face pale and her features freeze up he figured it all out. She had known what was goin' to happen all along. That was why she had said he wouldn't get Beth without her help, and why she had been so adamant about him just 'followin' her lead'. She had known that big, old creep would demand an exchange. She had made sure they would all have a safe place to go, and then she had led him here to get his girl. All without a care for herself. He admired her for the selfless act, but he also wanted to deck her. This was not how his group worked; they didn't leave people behind.

He reached back into the waistband of his pants and pulled the gun out, raising his hand and aiming it at Solomon's head. Then he heard the sound of at least six guns cocking simultaneously, and Squirrel had her hand on his arm, forcing him to lower the pistol. He turned his eyes to hers and saw she had her eyebrow cocked at him, and a half smile on her face. "This is following my lead, huh?"

He glared at her and growled, "It was a dumb lead, girl."

She just shrugged and looked behind him at Beth. "Honey, come 'ere." He felt Beth tentatively step to his side, and he wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulders. "I need that ring you have on." She looked up at him for conformation, and when he nodded she pulled the thin band off her finger and handed it to Squirrel.

He watched Squirrel turn back to the intimidating man, a look of resignation on her face. "I will stay so she can go. Is that an agreeable trade?"

Solomon grinned widely, and opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a masculine voice at the back of the room.

"This is wrong, Father."

A few of the women swiveled their heads around, no longer aiming their guns at the trio, though Solomon, and the oldest woman kept their eyes on Squirrel like she was a carnival prize. Solomon's voice was cold and hard when he spoke, though he still didn't look behind him. "This isn't your concern Isiah. Go back to the barn where you belong."

"This _is_ my concern. What you're doing isn't right. You always said this life was right, that it was best in the eyes of God, and I believed you. You said it was only right when it was entered into by adults that agreed with the principle and _wanted_ to live this life, though. Neither of those women fit the bill." Daryl finally spotted the man that was talking as he finished his little speech. He was tall and built like a brick shit house. Daryl could see instantly that he was Solomon's son, since they had the same face and build, but the young man had sandy hair, instead of the dark gray mop of his father and his face was far more open.

The older woman beside Solomon finally turned her head to the young man, an icy glare on her face. "You shut your mouth and get back out to the barn, before your father decides to send you off."

At this, Isiah laughed heartily, "He can't do that. If he does who do you think will keep you all safe, huh? Who do you think is responsible for keeping you alive this long? Not him, that's for sure."

Daryl was completely distracted by the argument going on between the bizarre family, and was shocked when he felt Squirrel gently pushing on his chest with her back. She had backed into him, and was trying to cautiously direct him toward the door. Beth was still clinging to his arm like a life raft, and she easily moved with him as he backed away from the people in the room. All eyes were currently focused on the young man or their patriarch and no one even noticed that they were moving toward the door.

It took them less than 30 seconds to cross the short distance, and then Daryl felt the wood at his back and reached behind him searching for the handle. The moment he found it he twisted it open and shoved Beth out the door, following close behind her. He reached for Squirrel's hand as he spun out the door, and was confused by the tingle that went up his arm at the contact.

Then they were racing across the meadow, Beth's hand in his left and Squirrel's in his right. He was half dragging them because he was running so fast. He knew neither girl could keep up with him, but he forced them to anyway. He heard gunshots, but didn't feel anything hit him, nor did he feel the girls falter, so he kept on until they reached the brush that would conceal them. Then he shoved Beth to the ground, and dropped on top of her to protect her from any bullets that might be headed their way.

He saw Squirrel crawling through the bushes, and briefly thought that they should follow her. Then just as he was getting Beth up to go after her, she reappeared with their pack and the weapons. He swiftly pulled the shotgun out, and turned toward the house. Her hand shot out and shoved the barrel down to the ground. "No shooting. Let's go!" she hissed at him.

He was going to argue with her, but she already had Beth's hand, and was dragging her toward the creek as fast as she could. Beth looked back at him with fear and desperation in her eyes, so he just growled and went after them.

Squirrel was right, they had to get Beth to safety. He could come back and kill that son of a bitch later, but right now he needed to focus on what was most important to him. Beth.

* * *

It was pitch black, and Beth couldn't see more than ten feet in front of her. She had her hand tightly wrapped around Daryl's as he led her through the underbrush. It felt like they had been walking for days, but she knew it had really only been a few hours. She realized that the few days of down time in the funeral home, and then at the farm house, had already made her soft. She'd spent weeks running with Daryl and by the time they had made it to their supposed sanctuary it had seemed perfectly normal to run or walk all day, but now only a few hours of walking and jogging had exhausted her.

She decided it was the silence that was getting to her, or maybe the woman that was walking behind then. The woman hadn't said a word to her since they were in the house, and she really didn't know what to think about her. Daryl had given her a quick rundown of what had happened after she was taken, but she felt like there was a lot missing from that story. All she knew was that Daryl had run into this woman, and she had helped him find Rick, Michonne and Carl, and those three were waiting for them at some treehouse mansion.

She decided that she needed to know more, and she broke the heavy silence. "So…" she trailed off, not entirely sure where she had planned on taking her line of thought.

Daryl squeezed her hand, and started moving a little faster. "I looked for ya. Ya know that right?"

She tightened her grip on his hand and smiled at him, though she doubted he could see her. "I knew you would come." she lied. She hadn't actually thought he would be able to find her, at least until the moment she heard the knock on the door. She had truly lost all hope for a few days in that place. It was all back now that she was free though, so she didn't think she needed to tell him that.

"I wouldn'ta without her." He jerked his thumb behind them, pointing at the woman following them a short distance back. Beth thought it seemed like she didn't really want to be with them, but she didn't have anywhere else to be. She glanced behind her to see the woman scanning the forest around them, an arrow notched in her bow. She pulled her eyes back to the area in front of them, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that they were talking about her. "What's 'er deal? She seems kinda weird."

She felt, more than saw Daryl shrug. "I dunno, she's been living alone in the woods for a while. Seems like a pretty good person ta me."

Beth's steps faltered for a moment. "What? Daryl Dixon thinks someone he doesn't know is a good person? You went from saying everyone is dead, to thinking there really are good people left in the world. How could that be?" She was teasing him, and she thought they both knew it. She had been fully aware of what he wouldn't say that night in the kitchen, she just wanted him to say it.

He only shrugged and held her hand tighter. He still wouldn't tell her what she wanted to hear. She sighed a little, "Fine… don' say nothin'."

"Yer a smart girl, figure it out."

She felt a smile tugging at her lips, and she knew that things were going to get better for her now. It would only be a matter of time before she and Daryl kissed, she just knew it.

* * *

Emma walked a safe distance behind the happy couple, carefully watching for any signs of biters or Solomon's family pursuing them. That man intervening had been an unexpected stroke of luck. She had no idea where he had come from, but he had given them the distraction they needed for _all_ of them to get away. She was truly thankful for that. In spite of that she knew she wouldn't be able to let her guard down until they crossed the river into her territory, and that wouldn't be until nearly daybreak. Of course then she would have a whole new kind of discomfort to deal with. One that she wasn't entirely sure how she would settle down.

She had only opened up the main gathering room at the big camp, knowing that would be enough for the trio of survivors if they got there before she did. When she got back she would have to open the dorms, and make sure everyone was happily settled in. She wasn't sure why that bothered her so much, she just knew that it did. She shook her head forcefully, trying to remove the thoughts of her old group. Deep down she knew that she was simply afraid these people would turn out the same way. That the truth would come out, and they would be horrible people with sick ideas for how to survive. Just like her old group.

She focused on the two people in front of her to take her mind off the old hurt that still plagued her. They had been talking for the last few minutes, though she couldn't quite hear what they were saying. Beth's voice was soft, and didn't carry well, and Daryl really wasn't talking all that much. He seemed to simply grunt every few minutes to let the young woman know he was listening.

She hadn't been sure what their relationship was when she and Daryl first set out to find her, though she'd had her suspicions. Now that she had seen them together she knew those suspicions were correct. They were obviously in some kind of relationship with one another, and for some odd reason that knowledge made Emma jealous.

She figured it was the fact that they shared such easy intimacy that made her feel that way, but she wasn't entirely sure that was all it was. Sure, she'd had a crush on him for a couple years after he sent her out that window, but that foolish infatuation had passed years ago. She hadn't felt any sort of fluttering in her silly stomach when he first woke up in her camp, nor had she during their walk to the big camp. She had however felt something pass between them when she got out of the shower when they were there. She had seen the way he looked at her, and the way he swallowed thickly, before closing his eyes. At the time it hadn't totally made sense to her, but now it did. He was attached to another woman, and he didn't want to like what he saw.

She sighed, and whispered softly to herself, "She's one lucky girl…" Where that had come from she had no idea. She really didn't know if the girl was lucky to have Daryl, or not. Of course she was definitely lucky to have someone so devoted to her in this world, and she was lucky to have someone to lean on – as she currently was leaning her head on Daryl's broad shoulder – but Emma had no idea what kind of man he really was. For all she knew he was an abusive bastard that treated the girl like crap. Deep down she knew that wasn't the case, but she held onto it in order to quell the rising tide of jealousy within her.

They kept walking for another hour or so, the night getting slightly brighter at the clouds moved out of the sky above them. She took a moment to really study the pair in front of her. They had gone quiet, and were walking more slowly now. Beth's head still rested on Daryl's shoulder, and now he had his arm around her waist. Emma could tell the girl was tired, and that he was trying to help her move forward.

Mentally she was comparing herself to the younger woman, and she felt like she was no competition for the younger woman. Beth had blonde hair that shone silver in the faint moonlight, where Emma had hair that looked more like faintly rusted cast iron. Stephen had always told her it was a beautiful color, but she thought of junk cars when she saw it in the mirror. Beth was taller than her by a few inches and had the body of a track star; lean muscle with a few soft, feminine curves where it counted. Emma was short by anyone's standards, at only 5'2", and she had a body that would most likely become very rotund if there was enough food to sustain it.

Emma vaguely remembered her grandmother; a woman with a great big belly and a soft lap. Her hair had been coal black up until the day she died at 68, and her face had retained a sort of majestic beauty until that day as well. That woman had been the first person to call her Squirrel, saying that it was her Comanche name. Emma knew that she had gotten a lot of her looks form her mother's mother. Their cheekbones were the same, as were their wide, brown eyes. She could remember looking up into her grandmother's wrinkled eyes as she listened to the stories about Coyote, Owl, Eagle, and Prairie Dog. They had seemed so real coming from her grandma's full lips.

She had lost herself in memories of the woman that had been a big part of her life until she was 14. Until the night when her father had brutally murdered her mother and then slit her grandmother's throat. Nothing had been okay after that night, not for a long time anyway. Not until she got away from Georgia and found herself on her journey across the country.

She nearly crashed into Daryl, as she hadn't notice they had stopped due to her preoccupation with her memories. He was lifting Beth into his arms, her eyes already closed. "She okay?" she questioned softly.

Daryl nodded his head, "Yeah, she's jus' tired."

"Prolly hasn't slept good in a while."

Daryl only nodded and started walking again. Emma fell back behind him, taking her position as protector once more. She suddenly felt a stab of pride, it felt good to be responsible to other's safety again. It had been too long.

**Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it please let me know!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:**

**Hi there folks. Sorry this update took so long. I had a heck of a time getting this written for some reason. I know what I want to have happen in the next chapter, but this one was just a stumper. I'm still not entirely happy with it, but I couldn't keep you guys waiting any more. Hopefully you all will enjoy it! Thanks to all of you that are adding this to your lists, and reviewing. It means the world to me!**

**Guest: Thanks for all of your kind words! Your reviews always make my day, and make me strive even harder to keep you coming back. I hope you like this chapter, and I look forward to hearing from you when you get a chance. Thanks again!**

**- Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead, or any of the recognizable characters. I do own my OC, and my original plot lines. I am not making any money on this story. **

**Chapter Nine – Shake it Out**

_Regrets collect like old friends, Here to relive your darkest moments, I can see no way, I can see no way, And all of the ghouls come out to play  
And every demon wants his pound of flesh, But I like to keep some things to myself, I like to keep my issues drawn, It's always darkest before the dawn  
And I've been a fool and I've been blind, I can never leave the past behind, I can see no way, I can see no way, I'm always dragging that horse around_

- _Florence + the Machine_

Rick was awakened by the sound of voices drifting through the wall into the room he had claimed as his own the night before. Hearing those distant voices briefly made him wonder if he was still in the prison, if everything that had occurred was just some horrible nightmare, but then he realized that Daryl and Emma must have returned with Beth. Or at least he hoped the voices belonged to those people. He quickly climbed out of the bed he had slept in, and pulled on his shirt. Having only slept in his jeans; something he hadn't done since before the prison fell.

He slipped his holster on as he exited the small room, just in case the people in the common room weren't the ones he was expecting. As he made his way down the hallway he met Carl as he was coming out of his own room. His son had obviously had the same idea as he had, the difference was that he was only wearing a t-shirt and his underpants, holding his gun up at the ready. Though Rick was tense, he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips at his son's appearance. His too-long hair stood up at strange angles, and he had red impressions on his face left behind by wrinkles in the pillow. Carl almost didn't look like the world had come to an end. If it wasn't for the gun in his hand, Carl could have been any teenaged boy having been rudely awakened. Rick knew better than to have any hope for a permanent sanctuary in the tree house, but he was thankful for the respite none-the-less, for the momentary normality.

Together they silently made their way down the hallway to the closed door that led into the common room. When they reached the door, Rick looked down at Carl and saw the boy nod, showing that he was ready. He flung the door open and they both sprung through it, ready to deal with whatever was on the other side.

They both immediately lowered their weapons when they saw Daryl and Beth sitting at one of the tables. Emma was standing in front of the camp stove heating water, a box of oatmeal sitting on the counter next to her. She instantly spun around, her hand smoothly drawing her pistol as she turned. She kept it up for a beat after she saw who she was aiming at, but lowered the gun after a moment. Rick wasn't sure why she had kept the gun drawn, but he knew something was bothering her.

"I see you found your way here." Emma said softly, as she turned back to the boiling water and added the oats. Her tone didn't show any negative emotion, but he still sensed that something was wrong so he holstered his gun and strode over to her,

"Can I help?" he asked enthusiastically.

She shrugged, "It's not very complicated. Why don't you go have a seat?"

Rick smiled at her and nodded, though she wasn't looking at him, so he doubted she saw it. Then he walked over to the table and sat down next to Carl, across the table from Beth and Daryl. He reached over and took Beth's hand in his own. "I'm real happy ta see ya back with us, honey."

Beth smiled at him, "It's all thanks to Daryl." She nudged Daryl with her shoulder, and Rick saw him blush faintly at the contact.

"We actually all have Emma to thank for our reunion. None of us would be here today without here." Rick said it softly, but with strength. He didn't want anyone to forget how much they owed the mysterious woman. He still wasn't entirely sure what to make of her, but he knew she had helped them all more than he could've ever imagined a stranger would.

Then the woman in question walked over carrying two bowls of steaming oatmeal, which she placed in front of Carl and Beth. She returned a moment later with three bowls for Rick, Daryl and herself. They all gave her their thanks, and dug into the food.

After the first bite Carl's face broke into a wide grin. "Is there milk and sugar in this?" he asked, his voice thick with disbelief and excitement.

Emma smiled softly, and nodded. "Yeah, it's sweetened condensed milk. I just watered it down a bit, and stirred it in. I wasn't sure if it would be any good, but I thought I'd give it a try."

"It's great!" Carl exclaimed, and Rick smiled fondly at the boy. "I can't remember the last time I had something like this." Rick could only agree with his son's sentiment; though it was a little too sweet for his taste, it was still a rare treat.

There was a happy silence while everyone ate, but as soon as Daryl finished his food he spoke. "Where's Michonne?"

Rick jerked his head back toward the hallway. "She's prolly still sleepin'." I checked on her an hour or so before sunrise, and she was resting comfortably." Rick paused to take another bite, then continued, his focus on Emma now. "I don't know what you had Carl giving her, but it worked miracles. She was a real trooper yesterday."

Emma studied him for a moment, and the feeling that he didn't quite measure up settled in his stomach once again. Then she shrugged and smiled faintly, and the feeling dissipated almost immediately. "I just mixed up some herbs to go in her dressings, and told Carl the correct dosage of laudanum to keep her comfortable. I'm glad she's doin' well." Emma looked over her shoulder at the now open door, a small frown on her face. "I guess I should go check on 'er."

Rick smiled at her, "I'm sure she would appreciate that. She mentioned several times how much she liked you." Rick had thought it was a little odd that the usually reserved and stoic woman would take such an instant liking to the primitive healer, but now that he knew what Carl had been dosing her with it made a lot more sense. Anyone would like a woman that gave them drugs like that. He remembered the time Shane had talked him into drinking poppy tea with him just after they got out of high school. To this day he remembered how relaxed and euphoric he had felt when the opiate kicked in. Of course he could also remember how incredibly stupid he had felt when the drugs wore off and he realized how foolish he had acted.

He noticed that Emma hadn't moved and was frowning at him once more, confusion and a hint of anger in her features. "What do you mean by that?" she asked aggressively.

Rick was confused for a moment, and then realized she had assumed Michonne's comment was sarcastic. He grinned at her in a friendly way, "I meant that. She really did say that she liked ya. It's a little odd, since she doesn't seem to much like anybody at first, but I imagine the laudanum played a part in that."

After a minute Emma lost her frown, but she didn't smile as he had hoped she would. Then she rose to her feet, collecting the bowls before she crossed back to the counter. "I didn't plan on you guys setting up in the dorms while I was gone, so you'll need to show me what room she's in."

Rick could hear the discontent in her voice, and suddenly wondered if they had overstepped their bounds by going into the closed off part of the monstrous tree house, and if that was why she seemed a little off that morning. He quickly jumped to his feet and walked to her side. "I'm sorry if we went where we shouldn't have. I didn't mean any disrespect." She didn't look at him while he spoke so he gently gripped her arm and turned her his way. When she looked up at him he smiled sheepishly. "We'll move out of the rooms if it would make you more comfortable."

Her eyes dropped, and she bit at her lower lip for a moment before she answered. "Naw, you can stay in there. I just didn't expect it is all." She looked up at him, and he could see a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Ya'll need to use the showers though. You stink worse than the biters." At that she spun out of his grip, and headed down the hallway to find Michonne on her own.

* * *

Daryl sat on the wide ledge surrounding their new home. It was only about eight feet wide, but compared to the narrow walkway outside the window of her other camp, it was a grand porch. His feet were dangling off into the open air below, and he wished he could just take off his boots and let the cool air refresh his feet. He just wasn't that comfortable though, not that he was ever that comfortable. Hell, he hadn't even slept without his socks in the prison, and he had been as comfortable there as anywhere in his life.

He sat in the shade, the late afternoon sun blocked by the large building at his back. There was a mild breeze that felt nice on his damp skin, but he thought it might get unpleasant later. While there weren't any clouds in the sky, he had a feeling that there would be rain sometime in the night. He could only wonder how many leaks would turn up in the tree house if there was. It wasn't that he had seen any signs of water damage inside – he hadn't – but he just couldn't imagine a tree house that wouldn't have a leaky roof. Even if it was the size of a mansion.

It had been a quiet day for the group, and he was incredibly thankful for it. His body had needed the rest, and he honestly felt better than he had in a long time, even with the broken ribs that screamed at him every time he moved. He looked out over the forest beneath him for any sign of Squirrel; she had been missing since she came out from checking on Michonne that morning, and he was beginning to wonder where she had disappeared to. No one else seemed to be concerned about it, and he wanted to emulate their calm, but couldn't. The others were acting like this was their place; Carl, Beth and Michonne were playing a board game they had found on the bookshelves, and Rick was actually taking a nap. For some crazy reason it seemed like they felt even more comfortable there than they had in the prison, but Daryl just wasn't sure if that was the right way to go. Sure, he was comfortable there, but there was no telling what was ahead of them, or what Squirrel's intentions were.

She seemed pretty welcoming, and had helped them all, but he could sense that she wasn't really comfortable with them bein' there. Daryl figured that they would take a day or two to regroup, and heal up, but when he mentioned that to Rick, he had been corrected. Rick planned on spending the winter there, and the thought made Daryl pretty damn uncomfortable. It wasn't that this wasn't a real nice place, it was just that he couldn't be sure that their host would like Rick's plan.

Daryl was just about to go in, and try talking to Michonne about his concerns, when Squirrel stepped out of the trees. She had three rabbits tied to her belt, and the mystery of her location was solved. She'd obviously been out huntin' for food to feed them all, and that made him feel kinda like shit. He'd always been the one to do the huntin' for the group, and here he was sittin' 'round like an entitled houseguest. All the while thinkin' 'bout how she prolly didn't want them around.

He jumped to his feet, and quickly climbed down the swaying ladder. When he got to her he extended his hand and pointed at the rabbits, "Let me clean those for ya."

She frowned up at him, confusion and a little irritation on her dirt smudged face. "You should be inside resting."

He grunted and frowned back at her. "I spent the whole damn day restin' and eatin' all yer food. I even took that shower I said I would when we got back here. Now I'm ready ta get back ta work."

She tilted her head, and raised one of her eyebrows in a rather infuriatin' way. "Well good. Now get back ta restin'. I can clean a couple rabbits all by myself. I've been doin' it for years." Her tone was slightly teasing, and for some reason it made his hackles rise.

"Why can't ya just accept some help, girl?" He realized he was growlin' at 'er, and couldn't figure out why he was acting that way. It seemed like almost every time he was around her his testosterone jumped into high gear.

She smirked slightly, and shrugged at him, "Well then let's go clean these up." She walked over to a large block of wood near the ladder, and Daryl followed her. feeling completely out of his element. Hunting, killing and cleaning game were all things he had done all his life, and he was comfortable doing those things, but he had never done those things with a woman before. The closest he'd gotten to that was when he was teaching Beth to track and she got her foot caught in that trap. Other than that disaster he had always hunted alone, or with his brother, and until he was with the group he had cleaned and cooked his own kills. Once he got a little more comfortable with the group he had started handing his kills off to somebody else to take care of, but he hadn't helped them. He knew there was no reason to be nervous or uncomfortable about cleanin' a couple rabbits with Squirrel, but he was anyway.

Once they got settled, she handed him a rabbit, and he pulled his knife out and stated to work. After a moment or two he realized that working with her really wasn't any different than working by himself or with his brother, she was silent and just let him do what he needed. It had been silly for him to get worked up about something small like cleaning kills, no matter who he was doin' it with. Between the two of them it only took about ten minutes to skin and clean the rabbits, and he was wiping his knife clean on the rag from his back pocket when Squirrel spoke up. "Thanks for the help Daryl. It will be nice having another pair of hands around here. Especially ones that know the forest."

Daryl just nodded, feeling even more uncomfortable due to her praise. "We'll all pull our weight around here, for as long as you're willing to let us stay. It might take a little time for Michonne to get back up to snuff, but she's worth the wait." Daryl wanted her to know that they would all work for their place there, she just had to let them stay so they could prove it.

She smiled faintly, "That will be nice. Rick already asked if ya'll could stay through the winter, so I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to show me what good helpers you are."

Relief washed over him as she spoke. Of course Rick would have talked to her before proclaiming to the group that this would be their safe haven for the winter. He felt like grinnin' but just nodded instead. He was the master of keeping his emotions inside, and he wasn't 'bout to change that with some stranger. "We 'preciate ya takin' us in, an' helpin' us like ya have."

She smiled up at him shyly, and he felt his heart start hammering in his chest. He had Beth back, but he still was feelin' the pull this little woman had. It annoyed him immensely, but in a way it was slightly thrilling. Beth made him feel good; good about himself and the world, hopeful even, but Squirrel was somehow electric. He remembered the shock that had run up his arm when he grabbed her hand when they were fleeing those crazy people the night before, and for some insane reason he wanted to feel it again. He forced the thought aside, and grabbed the bloody rabbit skins off the stump, thrusting them at her.

"You the one that tanned all the hides 'round here?"

She nodded, a confused frown on her face, "Yes."

"Ya should teach Beth how ta do it. I think she'd like havin' some soft stuff around 'er, and I don' know how ta tan 'em myself."

She nodded, happily smiling, while she took the skins from his outstretched hand. "Sure, I'd be happy to teach anyone that wants to learn."

He turned away abruptly, and grabbed the meat they had prepared for cooking as he walked away to start a fire.

* * *

Emma sat in her large bedroom across from the upstairs showers. There were two bedrooms up there and she had immediately selected one as her own, wanting to keep some distance from the new people she was living with. She had spent the afternoon out in the woods, trying to get comfortable with the idea of living with people again. After what had happened with her last group, she knew it was going to take some doing, but she wanted to try.

They had enjoyed a hefty dinner of the rabbits she had caught, along spaghetti using the last pasta she had with a homemade sauce using canned tomatoes and herbs. Daryl had slow cooked the rabbits over an open flame down on the ground, and they had been delicious thanks to that. He'd had to fight for that flavor, since the fire attracted a few biters, but he had taken them down without trouble, and she was impressed by that. She felt it was fitting that they have a real meal that first night, and had been rewarded by uproarious joy from the group. Michonne had even helped her serve everyone, though she was moving very slowly, and was obviously in pain.

The dreadlocked woman seemed cautiously distant, but she also exuded a clam warmth that had made Emma feel more at ease. She had also noticed how kind and funny Michonne was with Carl, and Emma liked to watch their interactions. There hadn't been any children in her last group and she rather enjoyed having Carl around. She actually had to admit that she liked having all of them around, even if they made her a little nervous and uncomfortable.

Daryl was honestly the one that was making her the most uncomfortable at that point, mainly because her silly schoolgirl crush wasn't dissipating. It was obvious that he and the blonde girl had something going on, though she wasn't entirely sure that it was romantic in nature, at least not yet. However, she wasn't about to step on any toes and try to steal him away. She wasn't even sure she wanted him for herself anyway. She did know that she had no business making a play for him, and so it just made her feel bad that she was attracted to him in the first place.

She shook her thoughts away, and focused on running a brush through her tangled hair. She had given Michonne a dose of laudanum so she could sleep, and as far as she knew everyone else had already gone to bed. They had all been up when she had retired upstairs to shower, but that had been over an hour ago so she assumed they had made their ways to their own rooms by then. She finished brushing out her long hair, and swiftly braided the still wet strands.

She then reached over to the little table next to her bed and gabbed the book she had mindlessly pulled off the shelf earlier. When she looked at the cover she immediately wished she had actually been paying attention when she took it. It was the fourth book of the Harry Potter series, and while she liked the books, if she wanted to read them again she would have started with the first book.

She rose with a slightly annoyed sigh and headed out of her room. She would have to go back downstairs and find something else if she wanted to read before she went to sleep. She was surprised to see one of the solar lamps still on when she got to the bottom of the stairs, and was instantly annoyed that her new friends – could she really call them friends? – had gone to bed and left a light on, but then she saw a blonde head peaking up over one of the book shelves.

Beth rose to her feet and gave her a shy smile. "I guess we had the same idea." Beth lifted the book in her hand and indicated the one Emma was carrying.

Emma returned the shy smile, "Yeah, I like to read before bed. It helps take my mind off the world we live in."

Beth walked over to her and glanced down at the hardcover in her hand. Then she looked at her with a quizzical look on her face. "I didn't take you as a Harry Potter fan."

Emma laughed quietly, "Yes… well I didn't actually mean to grab this one earlier. I do like Harry Potter though. I just would have gone for the first one if I had been paying attention."

Beth's face fell slightly, and she glumly handed over the book in her hand. "I guess we really did have the same idea."

Emma looked down and saw that Beth was handing her The Sorcerer's Stone, and suddenly she felt laughter bubbling up in her stomach. She let out a heartfelt chuckle and shook her head. "Naw, you take it. I wasn't really in the mood for Hogwarts tonight anyway."

Beth smiled widely at her, and Emma felt a connection forming. She hadn't thought she would have much in common with the soft spoken young woman, and perhaps she was right, but she could tell that Beth had a good heart, and that was enough. "Thanks." Beth said softly. "My dad read these to me when I was little, and now that he's… gone, I just wanted to feel close to him again. Ya know what I mean?"

Emma did understand. When her mother and grandmother had been taken from her she would have done anything to feel like they were with her again. "Yeah, I sure do. When did you lose him?"

Beth sighed, and looked like she was nearly in tears. Emma immediately felt bad for asking, but it was too late to take it back, and Beth began talking. "Just a few weeks ago, when we lost the prison. The Gov'ner executed him in front of us, at the beginning of the attack. We lost a lot of people that day, but I hope more of us made it out of there." She paused and gave Emma a hopeful look. "Rick said that there's a place somewhere near here called Terminus, and he thinks they might be there."

Emma felt her face pale at the thought that people this girl cared could be at Terminus, but she didn't show it to her. It was obvious that she had been through enough already, and the last thing she needed was to be worrying about something that might not even be true. She mentally shook the negativity from her head and forced a smile. "I'm going to take Rick out to search tomorrow, hopefully we'll find something good."

Beth grinned radiantly, "I sure hope so. I really want to see everybody, but I especially miss my sister and little Judith." Beth's face got a thoughtful frown for a moment, but then she smiled softly again. "Rick said they found her car seat empty and bloody, but I still have hope that she got out with someone. Daryl calls 'er Lil' Asskicker, and it's fittin', she's a tough little baby."

Emma just nodded, suddenly unable to form words at the thought of a baby somewhere out in this world. She couldn't imagine her making it for very long if they were on the run, but she found that Beth's hope was contagious and she held onto that hope tightly. She would do everything in her power to find that baby, just so she had a chance at growing up. Finally she found her voice, "If she's out there we'll find her."

Beth smiled again softly, "Thank you." She paused and looked down at the floor for a moment, then she looked intensely into Emma's eyes. "I know I wasn't very grateful this morning, but I didn't understand everything you've done for all of us. I told Daryl a few days ago that I knew there were still good people out there, and you're the proof I needed. You are a very good person, Emma. Thank you so much."

Emma felt her heart stutter in her chest, and she almost felt weak in the knees. She hadn't received praise like that in years, and though it felt nice, it also made her feel bad. She wasn't that good of person, and eventually Beth would realize that. When they all found out about her last group, and that she had just let them leave… Well, then they wouldn't be thanking her anymore. Suddenly thunder crashed just a short distance off, and rain began pummeling on the house. It felt like God was agreeing with her in that moment, and Emma had never wished so hard that He didn't.

**Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello folks! So sorry this has taken me so long! My life has been super hectic, and this chapter just didn't want to do what I wanted. As it turned out absolutely nothing that I had planned happened in this chapter, but it did let me lead up to what I had planned. I guess that's a good thing at least. In any case at least I got something out for you guys before the Walkers really struck and you never got to find out what happened next! Hopefully I will be better with the next chapter. **

**Thanks to Guest for her (or are you a him?) continued support, and wonderful reviews! I'm trying to get this out in a hurry before I have to put my DS to bed, so I can't thank you properly, but know that you are much appreciated, and I always look forward to seeing your thoughts. **

**Thanks to the rest of you that have followed, favorited, or reviewed. I always write a note to those of you that review and have an account so that I am able to do so. I recommend that everybody sign up on here, just so that I can tell you how much a enjoy getting your thoughts. It's also handy so you know when a new chapter comes out for the stories you enjoy.**

**I also want to recommend a story I have been reading. You should all check out Everything is Transient, by Daffodil3126. I have been doing some beta work for her, and have worked on the first seven chapters so far. Her story is great, and so far as I can tell, very original. Show her some love!**

**Okay, I guess that's all I have for you guys tonight. Thanks for reading!**

**Chapter Ten – Wondering**

_Since I was a young man, I never was a fun man, I never had a plan and no security then, Ever since I met you, I never could forget you, I only wanna get you right here next to me  
'Cause everybody (a-wha-oh-oh) Needs someone that they can trust and, You're somebody (a-wha-oh-oh)  
That I found just in time  
If you want me to wait, I will wait for you, If you tell me to stay, I would stay right through, If you don't wanna say, Anything at all, I'm happy wondering  
Now my life is changing, It's always rearranging, It's always getting stranger than I thought it ever could,  
Ever since I found you, I wanna be around you, I wanna get down to the point that I need you_

- _Good Charlotte_

Beth sat back on her heals, watching as Emma rubbed the small rabbit skin with a smelly mixture of brains and other entrails, combined with ashes from the fire they had cooked over the night before. Had she known that tanning hides was this nasty of a process, she probably would have turned Emma down when she offered to teach her. It was too late to back out now though, especially since she was currently elbow deep in the same repugnant mixture as her teacher. She sat back and listened for a moment while Emma further explained why it was so important to work the mixture into the hide. "If you don't get it in there deep enough your hide will end up being stiff, and unusable. It's easier when you remove the hair, because then you can work it into both sides. Hair on hides are the most difficult, but with rabbit it's the best way to go."

Beth just nodded and tried not to breathe through her nose. She had thought that there couldn't be anything that smelled worse than a walker, but this mix was very potent, and she wasn't so sure any more. She saw Emma look up at her, and noticed that the woman's face was torn between a smirk and a frown. "You better get back to it, or you'll lose that skin." Beth took a deep breath through her mouth – having learned almost immediately not to breathe through her nose – and started rubbing her own hide with slightly less vigor than she probably should have.

After another few minutes of the drudgery she broke the silence that had fallen over them. "I had no idea it would be so…." She searched for the right word, but was unable to find a descriptor that wouldn't make it seem like she was ungrateful for the lesson.

Emma smirked, "Disgusting, stinky, repulsive? Any of those words are apt descriptions. Why do you think I didn't mention that part, hmm? Because, nobody would ever want to learn if they knew the truth about it." She paused, and Beth watched as she swiftly wrapped the hide up, leaving the gloppy mess against the raw skin. "I promise you that you'll think it's worth it when you feel how soft that skin is when you're done, though."

Emma quickly scooted to her side and started helping her work her skin. Beth sighed and started to pull her hands back, finding it was really too many hands for such a small area. Emma's hand snapped out and caught her wrist though, "Oh no you don't." She smirked. "You're sticking with this 'til the bitter end.

All Beth could muster was a quiet "Okay." But she dug her hands right back in, and continued to work with more dedication. A few minutes later Emma deemed the skin satisfactory, and helped Beth wrap it up like her own.

Beth looked at the two small skins that up to that point had already taken an entire afternoon of their time, and shook her head slightly. "This is a lot more work than I expected. I remember Daddy sent the skin from one really pretty cow to a taxidermist, and he complained that they charged him too much. I don't remember how much it was, but whatever it was I don't think it was enough."

Beth was surprised to hear Emma laugh. She hadn't seen the woman smile more than a couple times, much less laugh, and they had been staying with her for over a week by that point. She was also rather surprised by the sound of her laugh. While Emma's voice was normally rather husky, and almost deep in tone, her laugh was melodic and slightly high in pitch. It was also amazingly contagious, and Beth found herself chuckling as well.

After their giggles subsided Emma spoke, "There are other ways to tan a hide, but most of them aren't possible now. They use chemicals, and I haven't seen any of that type in a while. This way will always work though. As my grandma used to say, God had the wisdom to give all animals just enough brains to save their hide. They're either smart enough to keep it on their body or there's enough to tan it."

Beth chuckled again, but then her thoughts went to a more morbid subject. "I guess that isn't true about the walkers though." After she said it she could see that Emma was seriously considering what she had said, and for some reason that made her uncomfortable. She cleared her throat and abruptly changed the subject. "Michonne said that she wants to go out tomorrow. Do you think that will be okay?"

Emma nodded slowly, "Yes. I think she'll do fine. She has been healing surprisingly well over the last few days, so I think it will be okay. I'll take her out myself just to be sure, though."

Beth would have liked to have talked more about the subject, maybe even volunteered to go with them, but right then she saw Daryl making his way across the small clearing towards them, and her mouth stopped functioning. Though nothing had really happened between them over the last week, she continued to think that it would. They had been spending a lot more time together than they had at the prison, and Daryl seemed more comfortable about touching her. However, there hadn't really been any moments that it seemed like he might kiss her like at the funeral home, and that was a disappointment.

She noticed Emma stiffen slightly, and shift as if she was getting up when Daryl stopped in front of them. There was a moment of awkward silence, then Beth found her tongue, "Hey Daryl, coming to enjoy the smell of decaying flesh?"

She saw Daryl's lips twitch slightly, but as usual, he didn't really smile. "Naw, I just ya guys finishin' up, and I thought I ought'ta tell Emma to get up ta the house before World War Three starts between Rick and Michonne."

Beth's eyes widened with concern, "What's happenin'?"

Daryl shrugged, and started chewing on his thumb again. Beth couldn't figure out how his fingers still had skin on them with all the chewing he had been doing on them lately. He dropped his hand back down, "Eh, Michonne wants to start searchin' with the rest of us, and Rick is tellin' 'er no. I 'magine it's gonna get pretty heated here in a minute."

Emma snorted slightly, and hopped to her feet in an incredibly graceful movement that left Beth feeling rather clumsy as she clambered to her feet, fighting the pins and needles that shot up her legs after sitting on them for so long. "Well I guess I'm about to get on Rick's bad side then. She's fine to go tomorrow, and I planned on taking her myself. I'll just go and put a stop to their little conflict." Emma's voice showed a great deal of annoyance as she spoke, and as she walked away Beth could see it in her stride as well.

Beth stooped down and retrieved the skins to place them in the cache that Emma had showed her when she got them out. "Well it sounds like dinner might be a little tense tonight, huh?" Beth asked Daryl over her shoulder as she made her way to the base of one of the trees that supported the house.

"Naw, if the 'good doctor' gives her okay, Rick 'ill let up. Ain't nothin' ta worry 'bout." Beth could hear how calm Daryl was, and it made her feel better too. She always felt a little nervous about anybody raising waves in their new home, because she wasn't sure how far might be too far with Emma. So far she had been incredibly welcoming and kind to them, but there was something about her that Beth couldn't figure out. She was a lot like Daryl had been when she first met him. Of course, Emma wasn't surly like he had been, but there was the same feeling. Almost like the feeling you get when you're around a feral animal that might try to bite you at any moment.

"Well I hope it goes well for them tomorrow… Do you think someone else should go with them in case something happens? Emma isn't exactly a large woman that could carry Michonne back if she got hurt again."

She heard Daryl snort behind her, and turned to see him looking at her with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "She's a hell of a lot stronger than she looks. She dragged my ass over a quarter mile and hauled me up into a tree by herself. I don't think she'd have any trouble with Michonne." He paused and looked up at the tree house, his face contemplative. "I don' think she'd let her go if that was a possibility anyway."

Beth just nodded, knowing she would have more luck telling her concerns to the tree. Daryl was convinced everything would be fine, and there wasn't any point in telling him that she was afraid it wouldn't be. She was also curious to learn more about what had happened to Daryl while they were separated, but she knew better than to bring that subject up. She had already asked three times, and every time he had completely shut her down. It was obvious that he didn't want her to know what had happened to him.

After a moment she decided to change the subject, "So who will you be going out with tomorrow?"

Daryl stared at her for a long moment, and she felt her stomach start twisting with butterflies. He hadn't looked at her like that since the funeral home, and she was more than excited to see that expression again. "I was thinkin' I'd go out with you tomorrow."

Daryl sat on one of the padded benches in the area he had come to call the library. He had spent a lot of time there the last few nights because it was where he always found Beth. Ever since they had gotten her back he had felt it was necessary to keep an eye on her. When he couldn't he always felt tense, and wondered what would happen to her. He didn't like the feelings that she put into him, at least not the ones that were full of anxiety. The other ones, well he wasn't too sure about those either.

He had spent the last week trying to work it all out in his mind, and he wasn't really getting anywhere. He knew he was attracted to her, and that she made him feel better about their chances in this damned world they were livin' in. He thought that was enough to make it worth finding out if she was interested as well, though he was pretty sure she was. She sure spent enough time trying to innocently touch him, and she always sat next to him at dinner. And then there was the way she reacted when he asked her to go out searching with him. If he'd had any doubts before then, they were taken care of now. He figured when they were out in the woods he'd make a move on her, and see what happened.

Of course there was the other hand of all that business, but he tried not to think about it too much. Unfortunately, trying often wasn't good enough, and that little naysayer in his head had a lot to say. It always seemed to point out the fact that she was 15 years younger than he was, and that she was way too good for him. When it was feeling particularly spiteful it would ask him how he thought Hershel would feel about him goin' after his daughter, and that would always make him feel like shit. He knew Hershel had thought he was a good man, and respected him – just like Beth did – but he knew the old man wouldn't be pleased by the match.

And if there wasn't enough going against him and his hopes for a relationship with Beth, that damn little naysayer would also point out the fact that he had been watching Squirrel like a mangy hound watches a 'coon. He was pretty sure that he was fallin' in love with Beth, but he couldn't lie to himself and say that the little brunette wasn't intoxicating. There was just somethin' about her that made his heart race and his mouth go dry when he was around her. It drove him nuts, and he tried to stay away from her whenever he politely could, just so it didn't happen. Of course, she also drove him absolutely insane, and made him get angry faster than anyone had since his brother got left on that rooftop.

He'd thought he'd gotten past having temper tantrums over a year ago, but she could push his buttons in a way that made him think she did it on purpose. Hell, damn near everything about her made him mad. He just didn't know why.

He was torn from his thoughts by Rick roughly slamming down onto the bench beside him. "Daryl, I think we need to think about going to that Terminus place to look for our people. I've asked Emma about it a couple times, and she always seems to find a way to change the subject without me realizing it until I walk away. I don't know why she won't talk about it, but I don't like it."

Daryl nodded slightly, trying to get his mind onto the topic of discussion instead of his mixed up thoughts of infatuation with someone he most certainly shouldn't be infatuated with. After a moment he decided that maybe he didn't need to do that after all, he could get info about her from Rick without even seeming off base by doing it. "You don't trust her?"

Rick shook his head, "I don't know, brother. She's been damn good to us, but I can tell she's hiding somethin' and it bothers me."

Daryl had noticed that too, though he had just figured that she was uncomfortable with them still. He figured that she would open up when she was ready. He knew he couldn't be judgmental about her with the way he acted around everybody. They actually probably knew more about her than they did about him, but they thought they shouldn't trust her. For some reason that made him feel defensive of her, and he spoke up, "She tell you that I met her before the… change?"

Rick's head snapped up, "What? No, she didn't tell me that. Why didn't you say something sooner?"

Daryl shrugged and stared out the large window they entered the house through. Now that the words were out, he wasn't sure that he should have spoken them. She might not want her past to be common knowledge. He had to explain it now though, so he pushed on. "I only met her once, but I guess it stuck with both of us. She was just a kid, and she had a real rough life. I imagine she has a hard time trusting people after that life." He didn't want to tell Rick the details of the night he met her – those that he could remember anyway – because he didn't figure she would appreciate it much.

Rick was silent for a long moment, then he sighed, "She grow up like you did?"

Daryl wasn't sure how to respond to that. He didn't really know how she had grown up, just how he had seen her that night, and the few words she had spoken to him as he shoved her out the window. The fact that her father had murdered her mother could only lead him to believe that her childhood had been even worse that his. Finally he nodded, "Yeah, I'd say she didn't have much of a happy childhood. I don't know what happened to her after that night, but it might not have helped her open up."

At that moment the reason he was sitting in that library walked down the stairs and sat down on the floor in front of one of the bookshelves. He platinum hair had changed to a darker shade, and was slowly dripping onto the floor. He could smell the clean scent of soap on her skin from where he sat eight feet away. The whole package suddenly made him almost crazy, and he had to glance away before Rick could see the look in his eyes.

Fortunately, Rick was completely oblivious to his feelings for Beth, and he just gave Daryl a small smile. "Thanks for telling me that Daryl. I'll keep it in mind now. I guess for the moment we'll just keep doing what we're doing."

Daryl nodded and hopped to his feet so that he could look at the titles on some books on the shelf beside the one Beth was sitting in front of. As he stared blindly at the books he could feel Beth's body heat against his leg and realized that she wasn't the only one looking for ways they could innocently touch.

Suddenly the problem was solved in his mind. He would kiss the girl the next day, and see what happened. Consequences be damned, he had to know.

Emma had been on her way down the stairs to make herself a cup of tea before bed when she heard Rick start talking about her with Daryl. The fact that he was beginning to question why she wouldn't talk about Terminus was a problem, but one she would address when he brought it up with her. It seemed like the discussion had come to an end, but then Daryl piped up about her past, and she was glued to her spot.

She was both infuriated that he would dare talk about her past without her permission, and touched that he was trying to defend her, as it was obvious that was what he was doing by bringing it up. She was still feeling torn about how she should handle it, and whether she should go into the room at all, when she heard footsteps behind her, and realized that Beth was on her way down from the shower. She knew it wouldn't look good if she was found standing at the base of the stairs listening to the girl's leader, so she turned around and headed back to her room.

When she met with Beth the girl smiled and continued on without saying anything. At that moment she realized that she should probably shower as well. She had washed up after they were done tanning for the day, but she could still feel little pieces of flesh sticking to her, so she grabbed a change of clothes from her room, and headed to the shower room.

When she got under the cool water she started thinking about what she had overheard. She had known the time would come when she couldn't keep dodging the subject of Terminus, but she had hoped that it wouldn't come for a long time. Unfortunately that wasn't the case and she assumed that if they didn't start finding their people soon, they would demand answers about Terminus. The answers would be hard enough to provide, but the solutions would be nearly impossible. She had spent hours trying to figure out how to get their people out of there, if that was where they in fact were, and she hadn't come up with much that was viable.

She didn't waste time in the shower because she knew water was finite, in spite of the fact that they had gotten rain three times in the last week, and it looked like they would get more that night as well. It was important to be sparing with it nonetheless, especially since there were already six of them, and there was the probability that there would be a lot more of them soon.

As soon as she got her hair washed and all the accumulated muck off her body she slipped out of the shower, and dried off quickly. She slipped on a pair of worn jeans that had been left behind when her group moved on, and a flannel shirt that was comforting for some reason. She didn't even remember where it had come from, but with the weather turning cold the plaid fabric felt like home. All of her homes.

Once she was done she tossed her dirty clothes into her room, and headed down the stairs once more to get the cup of tea that had been her prerogative earlier. Once she walked into the large room she discovered that everyone had congregated there, and it seemed she wasn't the only one that wanted a cup of tea before bed. Michonne was standing with her hip cocked against the counter, glaring at the kettle on the camp stove. Daryl and Beth were sitting next to each other on one of the benches, and Rick and Carl were inexpertly playing chess.

She glanced at Rick, who looked up at her as she walked through the room, and gave him a small smile, she then approached Michonne. "How are you doing?" she asked.

"Fine." Michonne snapped.

"Hmm…" Emma looked her over, and saw that the older woman looked tired and irritated. "Did you continue your argument with Rick after dinner?"

Michonne glared at her for a moment, "He is adamant that I should just wait a few more days. I'm fine." She said it with finality, and Emma commended her effort at recovery, and her insistence that she get to work. Over the last week she had come to respect the older woman, and knew that she was a valuable member of the group.

She smiled slightly, "Michonne, you are far from 'fine', but I know you're well enough to start helping with the search for your people. I wouldn't take you out if I didn't think that, so stop second guessing yourself, and get to bed."

Michonne huffed slightly, "I will as soon as this damn water boils, and I can have some of that tea you gave me for before bed. It really helps me sleep."

Emma nodded, it should help her sleep with the amount of tranquilizers she had put into it. She would have to take Michonne to her fields the following day so she could get more of her plants to dry so she didn't run too low. At that moment the kettle began to whistle, and she saw Michonne smirk slightly.

"About damn time." She reached out and grabbed the kettle, pouring the steaming water into the mug she used before turning to Emma again, "Should I make you some too? You look like you haven't slept in a month."

It was true that she didn't usually sleep well, and she had been having even more trouble than usual since the group had come into her life, but she wasn't about to drink something as potent as what she had given Michonne. "No thanks, just chamomile for me." She smiled softly, and walked to the other end of the counter to collect what she needed to make her tea.

When she got back to the kettle Michonne was already gone, and she saw her slipping silently down the hall toward her room. She had found that the dreadlocked woman liked to keep to herself a lot of the time, but when she did engage with the group she was open and comfortable with them. It was interesting to see how the group dynamic worked. They were all such different people, and she couldn't imagine any of them ever getting along before the world came to a crashing halt, and yet now they were a close knit family. In a way she wanted to be part of that family, but in other ways she needed to remain on the outside.

She poured the water over the chamomile, and decided to join the group for once. She had never sat with them in the evenings, preferring to stay in her room after dinner for the most part. However, for whatever reason she didn't want to listen to the laughter downstairs and wonder what it would be like to be a part of it.

She cautiously approached the four distracted people, and sat down on a pillow on the floor. She just watched them quietly, not wanting to interrupt anything, as she waited for her tea to steep. After a moment Beth looked up from the book she had been reading and smiled at her. "Nice to have you down here finally. I've been wanting to ask you something, but I always seem to forget when I'm around you during the day."

Emma raised an eyebrow in question, "Is that so? What is it that you want to know?" Emma was afraid it would be something she didn't want to talk about, but she was determined to seem trustworthy and answer the questions people had for her while she drank her tea. She didn't think it could get too crazy in the few minutes it would take for her to empty her cup.

Beth beamed at her, "Well, I just can't believe you have a shower in a treehouse. We used to have them at the prison, but we had to gather water for it at the little stream there. We haven't gathered any since we've been here."

Emma released the breath she had been holding while she waited to hear the question, and was thankful that it was such an innocent query. "Well, when we first found this place and decided to build our main camp here I was part of a big group. Gareth was an engineer of some kind and he came up with a plan for catching the water off the roof, and piping it back up to a tank on the roof so it would be pressure fed. I'm honestly not entirely sure how it all works, but it does." She chuckled softly, and took a small sip of her calming brew.

"There was a kid at the prison that would have been thrilled to figure out how it worked, Patrick. He was excited by all things mechanical. He actually helped a lot in getting our showers set up. He was a smart kid." Beth was smiling while she talked about the boy, but Emma could see the sadness behind her eyes, and noticed the fact that the boy was spoken about in the past tense. It was obvious that the Patrick was not someone they expected to see again, and it made her curious. However, she had the good sense not to press the subject. She didn't want to talk about her old group, so she wouldn't ask about theirs.

Instead she changed the subject to their continued search. "So I know that I'm taking Michonne out, and I was planning on taking her east toward the tracks since that is the easiest ground to cover." That was actually only half the reason for her choosing to go that direction, the other half was that she needed to check on her crops. She needed to be sure that no one was messing with them. She continued after a moment of thinking how she would explain her herbs to her companion when they got there. "So who else is going out and which way are they going?"

Rick promptly piped up at that point. "I was thinking that Carl and I would go to the river and check the snares, then head north for the day. Daryl could go south and Beth could hold down the fort."

Emma nodded, expecting there would be a similar plan in place, and she was about to agree with him, when Daryl interrupted her. "Beth an' me are goin' out to the north. We already looked at the map and made our plan."

Rick looked slightly shell-shocked by Daryl's remark, but he regained his composure quickly. "Well I guess if you guys already did all that, then Carl and I could just check the snares then head back and do stuff around here." He turned to Emma, "Surely there are some chores we could do around here. You haven't really let us do much to help."

She thought for a moment of all the things she did every day, and finally decided there were a few things they could do. "You could bring water up from the river and boil it for our drinking water. There's also some rope in the back storage room I showed you yesterday, and you could do some repairs on the ladder." She paused and tried to decide if that was enough for them to do, and decided that while it wasn't much, it was enough. "That would be a big help, and it should keep you busy for a while."

Rick smiled, and turned back to his game with Carl. "It's the least we can do."

Emma had finished her tea by that point and rose to her feet, her back popping loudly as she stretched it. She felt Daryl's eyes on her at that moment, and caught his gaze. She could see heat behind his stare, and she wasn't sure what to think of it. It was obvious to her that he and Beth had _something _going on, even if it wasn't something they understood yet. She had also seen the way he looked at her though, and it left her confused and angry. That anger seemed to be something they had in common, since they could hardly say more than ten words to each other without arguing. The first few days had been fine, but after that they had started fighting whenever they interacted, and after that she had actively avoided him. For everyone's sake.

She broke eye contact with a silent sigh when she noticed his gaze getting darker, and she turned to the kitchen. "Well goodnight everyone. Sleep well, we'll all need the energy tomorrow."

Her sentiments were echoed back to her, and once she got to bed she wished she could do as they wished and go to sleep.

**Thanks for reading!**


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